


Leo Inter Serpentes: Second Year

by Aeternum



Series: Leo Inter Serpentes [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Good Slytherins, I had far too much fun with the house-elves, M/M, Mentor Snape, Narcissa is a total BAMF, Parseltongue, Slytherin Harry, jealous!Draco
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-02
Updated: 2014-02-17
Packaged: 2018-01-03 06:09:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 54,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1066995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeternum/pseuds/Aeternum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Harry's second year at Hogwarts, and he's beginning to wish that Voldemort was back to possessing his professors. Someone's targeting Muggleborns, and it's no fun being a Slytherin when most of the school thinks you're the one attacking other students.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In Which the Malfoys Rescue Harry

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Español available: [Leo Inter Serpentes: segundo año](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12391923) by [Sarificacion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarificacion/pseuds/Sarificacion)



> germanoutlander is posting a German translation of Second Year on ff.net: [Leo Inter Serpentes: Zweites Jahr](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12081755/1/Leo-Inter-Serpentes-Zweites-Jahr)

Harry frowned at his photocopy in frustration. This had all seemed so simple in the library. He was discovering that looking at _The Secrets of Lock Picking_ in the well-lit library was quite different from trying to follow a photocopied diagram by torchlight. It didn't help that he didn't have any of the suggested tools. He was making do with some bobby pins and safety pins he'd stolen from the bathroom cabinet.

And he had an irate owl glaring at him the entire time.

“I'm sorry, Hedwig,” he said again. “It just doesn't want to budge.”

He carefully folded up his photocopy and put it in an old biscuit tin along with the pins, then stashed the whole lot under the loose floorboard he'd prised up. He flopped onto his bed and pouted at his ceiling. All his plans for the week were ruined. 

All he'd needed to do, he thought, was to get some instructions from the library. Then he could free Hedwig and send a letter to Draco, asking him when he and his mother were going to arrive to collect him. As he waited for a reply, he could've unlocked the cupboard under the stairs and taken his school things up to his room to do his homework. Instead he'd spent his time reading Dudley's discarded books and drawing. He usually enjoyed that, but there were only so many portraits of Hedwig he could manage when she was glaring at him the entire time. Plus his pencils were starting to get depressingly short, and Dudley hadn't any others he could steal.

A quiet beeping interrupted his thoughts. Rolling over, he quickly turned off his alarm clock. 

“Happy birthday to me,” he muttered as he stared at the glowing numbers.

********

  
Harry had to spend his birthday completing chores for Aunt Petunia in preparation for a dinner held for one of Uncle Vernon's business associates and his wife. Harry was re-painting the garden bench for Aunt Petunia when he heard someone complaining about the lack of rodents in the garden. Harry shook his head; after all, just this morning he thought he'd seen a pair of green eyes watching him from the hedge. Clearly the lack of contact with his friends was driving him insane.

He was therefore very relieved when he saw a grass snake poking its head out from the flowerbed. “ _Hello_ ,” he said in a friendly tone. 

The snake flicked its tongue out a few times as it regarded him. “ _Hello, human boy_ ,” it eventually hissed back.

“ _If you're looking for some better hunting, you should try the field behind the high school_ ,” Harry advised it, and provided directions. 

“ _What would you like in thanks, human boy?_ ” it asked.

Harry grinned; he'd been hoping it would want to pay him back. “ _Nothing too taxing. But if you'd like to return to this garden with a group of friends, I'd appreciate it. The bigger the better. The other humans in the house are scared of snakes_.” He didn't actually know if that was true or not, but he didn't think the Dursleys would be very pleased if their orderly garden was overrun with them.

“ _I will try, human boy_ ,” the snake said, before slithering away.

Harry completed the rest of his chores in a much better mood than he'd begun them with, but his bad mood soon returned when he saw the meagre dinner Aunt Petunia had provided for him. He ate it sourly as he eyed the pork roasting in the oven. He'd be happy once this dinner with the Masons was over. Sullenly, he made his way up to his room, ignoring Uncle Vernon's final warning as the doorbell rang.

He closed the door, went to collapse onto his bed and only just stopped himself from crying out loud. There was a house-elf sitting on it. It was wearing a filthy pillowcase; not at all like the clean liveried pillowcases the Hogwarts elves wore. Looking at its green eyes, Harry realised he hadn't been imagining things at the hedge that morning.

“Er, hello. Can I help you?” he asked it nervously. He had no idea why a house-elf would be in his room. 

“Harry Potter!” the elf squeaked happily. “Dobby has heard many things about Harry Potter! Dobby has been wanting to meet you for a long time, sir.”

“Dobby... Oh! You're Draco's elf!” Harry said excitedly.

Dobby nodded his head, setting his ears flapping. “Dobby serves the Malfoy family, Harry Potter.”

“Did Draco send you here?”

“Oh, no. Master Draco doesn't know Dobby is here, sir. Dobby will have to punish himself when he returns home for coming here.”

“ _What?_ Draco told you to punish yourself?”

“No, Harry Potter. Master Lucius expects Dobby to punish himself when Dobby misbehaves.”

Harry frowned. “I don't understand. Why are you here then, if you're only going to have to – to punish yourself?”

Dobby jumped off the bed and came over to Harry. “Dobby has come to warn Harry Potter, sir. Harry Potter must not return to Hogwarts!”

“What? Of course I do! I have to go to school. And it's more of a home than this place could ever be,” Harry said, bewildered.

Dobby shook his head violently. “Hogwarts will not be safe for Harry Potter.”

Harry shrugged. “It wasn't exactly safe for me last year, either, but it's still more fun than here. I have friends there.”

“Friends that don't write to Harry Potter?”

Harry narrowed his eyes. “How do you know I haven't gotten any letters?”

Dobby shrunk in on himself a little. “Harry Potter mustn't be angry with Dobby. Dobby only meant to help.”

“What have you done?” Harry demanded.

“Dobby has stopped Harry Potter's mail, sir,” the elf said, and pulled a thick stack of letters from inside his pillowcase.

Harry tried to remain calm. “And why did you do that?”

“Dobby thought that if Harry Potter thought he had no friends, then Harry Potter wouldn't want to go back to Hogwarts.” Dobby's tone made it clear that he thought this a very straight forward concept.

“I'm going back to Hogwarts in September. You can't stop me. And I'd like my letters now, please!”

“Harry Potter will have them if he promises not to go back to Hogwarts.”

“No. I can't promise that.”

“Then Harry Potter leaves Dobby no choice,” Dobby said sadly.

With that the elf ran out of the room and down the stairs. Harry swore and took off after him as quietly as he could. He found Dobby crouching on top of a kitchen cabinet with Aunt Petunia's pudding floating in front of him. 

“No, please, they'll kill me,” Harry whispered.

“Harry Potter must say he's not going back to school.”

“I can't!”

Dobby looked at him sadly. “Then Dobby must do it, sir, to save Harry Potter.”

Dobby let the pudding fall to the floor where the plate shattered loudly. The elf disappeared with a sharp crack. There were screams from the dining room, and Uncle Vernon burst into the kitchen to find it covered with cream and bits of crockery. Harry was standing in the middle of the room with his arms still outstretched from trying to save the dessert. 

Uncle Vernon shooed the Masons back into the dining room, then returned and handed Harry a mop as he listed with relish the various punishments he'd be inflicting on Harry. Aunt Petunia found some ice cream in the freezer, and Harry thought hopefully that Uncle Vernon might not be too hard on him if he managed to secure the business deal he was after.

Then an owl swooped in through the open window, deposited a letter on Mrs Mason's head and flew back out. The Masons left in a barrage of shouting and screaming, and Harry carefully positioned his mop and bucket between himself and the Dursleys. It wasn't much, but it made him feel marginally safer as Uncle Vernon advanced on him. 

“Read it! Go on – read it!” he hissed as he thrust the letter into Harry's hands.

Harry read the letter and gulped. It was from the Improper Use of Magic Office at the Ministry, and clearly stated underage wizards shouldn't do magic outside of school. Shit.

“You didn't tell us you weren't allowed to use magic outside school. Forgot to mention it... Slipped your mind, I daresay...” Uncle Vernon grabbed Harry by his collar and started dragging Harry upstairs. “Well, I've got news for you, boy... I'm locking you up... You're never going back to that school... Never... And if you try and magic yourself out – they'll expel you!”

The next morning, Uncle Vernon arranged for a man to come out and install bars across Harry's window. He put in a cat flap on Harry's door himself, and Aunt Petunia pushed his lunch – a cold can of soup – inside for him. Harry gave Hedwig the few bits of meat in it, ignoring her glare, and drank the liquid in one go, grimacing. 

He paced the room and tried to take stock of what he had. An owl, paper and pencils, but no way to get her out to get help. A few old novels he'd already read that summer. Some of Dudley's old broken toys. That was it.

No, it wasn't, he remembered. Grinning, he pulled up the loose floorboard and fished out Dudley's old Walkman and the Pearl Jam tape he'd managed to buy earlier that summer. He'd saved up painstakingly by collecting any money he found in the couch cushions or near public phoneboxes. It was a far cry from his piles of gold in his Gringotts vault. He slipped in the headphones and sat on his bed, looking out of the window in misery.

Halfway through the tape, Harry could hear some shouting. He considered simply turning up the volume, but he was acutely aware that he didn't have many batteries in his room. With a sigh, he decided to save his supply. He turned off the Walkman and put it back under the floorboard. The shouting might entertain him, he reasoned. It might even be the police, come to see why the Dursleys had locked up their nephew, though he didn't think that was very likely. He crept over to his door and pressed his ear against it. He could hear Uncle Vernon swearing at the top of his lungs, and then footsteps rushing up the stairs.

Harry jumped back from the door, checked that the loose floorboard was properly flush with the rest of the floor, and sat down on his bed. Outside, the footsteps slowed and then stopped. Another lighter set came up the stairs more slowly, and then a woman's voice said something too quietly for Harry to make out.

“Harry?”

Harry gaped at the door, too shocked to say anything. Someone knocked. 

“Harry?”

“ _Draco?!_ ” Harry leapt off his bed and made his way to the door. Surely he was hallucinating.

“Mother, it's this one.”

Seconds later, the door opened and Draco stepped through. Harry stared at him. “Are you real?”

Draco frowned, then laughed. “Yes, Harry, I'm real. Or at least I think –”

The rest of his response was cut off as Harry launched himself at him, hugging him fiercely. “Thank god you're here!”

Draco hugged him back just as strongly, then gently disentangled himself. “Harry, I'd like you to meet my mother.”

Harry looked past Draco to see a tall blonde woman standing there. He'd seen her once before, from a distance. Close up, there was a strong resemblance to Draco, though her eyes were blue rather than grey. She was wearing an elegant Muggle dress that Harry would bet cost more than anything Aunt Petunia owned and had her wand out.

“It's so good to finally meet you, Harry,” she said warmly. “Though I do wish the circumstances were a little happier.” As she said this she gazed around the room. When she saw the abandoned can of soup and the bars on the windows she breathed in sharply and narrowed her eyes. 

“Get your things, we're leaving,” Draco told Harry. 

Harry quickly grabbed the Walkman and biscuit tin from under the floorboard, then gathered up his drawing supplies from his bedside table. “Everything else is in my cupboard under the stairs,” he said awkwardly.

Mrs Malfoy nodded once and raised her wand, which she hadn't put away. Given the shouting still coming from downstairs, Harry couldn't blame her. She silently unlocked the lock on Hedwig's cage, then aimed her wand at the window. The bars outside disappeared with a bang. 

“Release your owl, Harry, and she can fly to the Manor. No doubt she'd like the chance to stretch her wings.” As he did so, Mrs Malfoy shrunk down Hedwig's cage and handed it to Draco, who put it in his pocket. 

“After you, Harry,” said Draco. 

Harry led the way downstairs, and stopped outside the cupboard. The shouting in the lounge had quieted to a heated discussion.

“Are your possessions in here, Harry?” Mrs Malfoy asked him. He nodded silently, wishing there was some way he could stop either Malfoy from seeing inside the cupboard. Mrs Malfoy waved her wand again, and pulled open the door. He dragged out his trunk and broomstick quickly, and tried to shut the door but Mrs Malfoy put out a hand. It was shaking as she looked down at the old mattress Harry used to sleep on.

“Harry, did you use to sleep in here?” she asked quietly.

“Yes.” 

Draco put his arm around him.

“At what age?”

Harry frowned. “Er, well, since I was a baby, I guess, up until I got the spare bedroom upstairs when the Hogwarts letters started arriving.”

Mrs Malfoy shrunk down his trunk and broomstick in silence, and handed them to Draco as she peered closer at the cupboard. Suddenly, she straightened up and closed the door. When Harry looked up at her, her face held none of its earlier warmth. She marched into the lounge, with both boys following, Draco's arm still around Harry. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia fell silent as Mrs Malfoy entered the room. Dudley was hiding unsuccessfully behind the arm of the couch. 

Mrs Malfoy surveyed the Dursleys coldly. “Mr and Mrs Dursley, when Draco told me what little Harry had told him of his upbringing, I thought he was exaggerating.” When Uncle Vernon opened his mouth, she held up her hand. “You will not interrupt me. As I was saying, I thought my son was exaggerating. I didn't think it was possible that two people – people with a child of their own – could force their nephew to live in a cupboard. But as it turns out, you could, and did, do exactly that. And then when he returned from school, you locked him in his bedroom. Did you know that this past June, Harry nearly died facing down a corrupted professor who was attempting to resurrect the Dark Lord?”

Aunt Petunia let out a small gasp.

“Oh, so you are aware of what the Dark Lord was like? Did your sister perhaps tell you tales of the atrocities he and his followers committed? The nephew you have had locked in his room is the only reason that the Dark Lord wasn't resurrected two months ago.” Mrs Malfoy sighed. “I had hoped to appeal to your sense of decency or, failing that, to talk to you as rational human beings. I can see that neither is an option, so let me resort to a cruder method. Harry will be staying with us for the remainder of the summer, and will then spend the rest of the year at Hogwarts. He will then return to King's Cross Station at the end of the school year. You will be there to pick him up. You will bring him back home for the summer. He will be allowed to sleep in his bedroom upstairs, and fed adequately. He will not be kept prisoner, and nor will his owl. You will not lock up his possessions where he can't access them. And you will treat him civilly for the summer. He will be allowed to correspond with his friends. And then you will take him to King's Cross Station when it is time for him to return to school.”

By this stage, every eye in the room was fixed on her. Harry and the Dursleys were openly gaping at her, but Draco was grinning broadly.

“If Harry writes one word to my son that he has been mistreated as he has this summer, I shall return, and I shan't be nearly as pleasant as I have been today. I will likewise return if Draco writes to Harry and does not receive an answer from Harry. Believe me when I say I am quite capable of making each of your lives as miserable as you have made Harry's. Believe me also when I say I have many powerful friends in high places, and I am not afraid of reprisal for anything I may do to you.” 

Mrs Malfoy glared at the Dursleys as they took in her words, then put her hand on Draco's shoulder. “Come along, boys. The sooner we're out of this place, the better.”

She herded them out of the front door before coming to an abrupt stop on the front step. “Harry, is there usually such a large number of snakes in your front garden?”

Harry peered around her and grinned. “Er, no, Mrs Malfoy. This would be my fault. Excuse me.”

He stepped onto the path and looked for the grass snake he'd seen the day before. Sure enough, it was lying on the ground next to the path. There were at least ten other snakes scattered over the lawn. “ _You came back! Thank you_.”

“ _The field you told me about has a lot of rodents in it, human boy. Hunting was almost boring, even when my friends arrived. We will feed well for a long time because of you_.”

“ _I'm glad to hear it. Listen, I'm leaving now, but I'll be back next year. I'll try to visit you in your field_.”

“ _That would be pleasant, human boy_.”

Harry looked back at the Malfoys. Draco looked as if he'd been trying to follow the conversation, while his mother was watching Harry with wide eyes. “Er, I take it Draco didn't tell you I speak Parseltongue, then?” 

Mrs Malfoy shook her head. “It slipped his mind, I daresay. No matter. That is a useful gift you have there, Harry. Now, am I right in assuming that these snakes will not harm us?”

“No, they like me because I told them where to find easy prey.”

“I see. Come along then, there's an Apparition point not too far from here.”

As they set off, Harry couldn't stop the grin from spreading over his face. “Thank you for coming to get me.”

“What did you think we would do, leave you to starve to death?” Draco asked.

“Er, kinda.”

“Well, no. Dobby told me what happened, you see.”

“Dobby told you? But I thought he wanted me to stay here?”

Draco sighed. “He did, yes. But he was acting odder than usual last night, so I commanded him to tell me what was wrong. He can't disobey a direct order from anyone in the family, you see, so he had to tell me what he'd done here. Naturally I went straight to Mother, and here we are.”

Harry grinned at him. “You're a good friend.”

“I'm the _best_ friend,” Draco corrected him.

“Yep, definitely. And you were brilliant, Mrs Malfoy. Was all that stuff true? Can you really get away with hexing them or something next year?”

Mrs Malfoy was still tense, but smiled down at him. “Thank you. And no, it wasn't true. While I do have a lot of friends in the Ministry, I would be arrested if I raised my wand against the Muggles, except for self-defence. But I didn't feel the need to tell them that.”

She led them into a laneway and stopped. “Harry, have you ever travelled by Apparition before?”

“Er, no.”

“Alright then. Take a hold of my hand, that's right, now don't let go until we arrive.”

When Harry and Draco had a firm hold on either hand, Mrs Malfoy gave a quick glance around them. The next thing Harry knew, Mrs Malfoy's hand jerked away from his grip, and he tightened his hand as he felt as if he were being squeezed through a tight tube. There was pressure all around him, he couldn't breathe properly and his eyes were surely being pushed into his skull and -

And then it was over, and he was left gulping in fresh air as they stood in front of high wrought-iron gates, which dissolved like smoke as they walked straight through them. Mrs Malfoy smiled at Harry and extricated her hand. “Welcome to Malfoy Manor. Draco, I need to write to the Ministry so that the magic I used in Privet Drive won't be blamed on Harry. Would you like to show him to his room? I thought he might like to use the Green Bedroom.”

“Yes, Mother. Come on!” Draco grabbed Harry's hand and they took off up the gravel driveway. 

Made of grey stone, the house that loomed at the end of the drive was the largest Harry had ever seen. The double-storeyed front doors opened by themselves to show a large marble foyer. Harry didn't have a chance to have a look as Draco was impatiently pulling him up the wide staircase. He dragged Harry down a dimly lit hallway. Its walls were lined with portraits of pale faced blondes who murmured as the two boys rushed past. Finally Draco slowed to a stop.

He pushed open a door, and the room within lit up at once. Harry's first thought was that the room was very aptly named. A pale green rug covered most of the hardwood floor. The wooden furniture was pale as well, and the bed and armchairs were covered with a matching pale green fabric. Darker green drapes were pulled open on the windows, which showed the vast gardens outside. 

Draco took Harry's shrunken possessions out of his pocket and placed them on the bed, and pointed to the doors on one wall. “That's your bathroom through there, and that's the closet. A house-elf will be up later to unshrink your things and put them away for you. Now come on, I want to show you my room.”

If Harry had thought the Green Bedroom was large, that was only because he hadn't yet seen Draco's. Located next to Harry's, it was even bigger than their dormitory at Hogwarts. Harry stared in awe. There was a large four poster bed against one wall, covered with silvery-blue bedding and a mound of pillows. Like the Green Bedroom, there were two doors on the opposite wall, and two large bay windows looking out over the grounds. Bookshelves ran along one wall, and there were more shelves covered with toys and ornaments between the bathroom and closet doors. Harry grinned when he saw that the white crown Draco had taken from the chess match had pride of place. But what really grabbed his attention as he stepped onto the grey carpet was the wall behind Draco's bed. 

While the other three walls were painted a pale grey, this one had a large mural on it. It showed a lush green mountain with a forest in the distance. In the foreground was a large pale green dragon. As Harry watched, it lifted its head and stared at him.

“My mother had it painted when I was a baby. It's a Welsh Green. I've been thinking of getting it painted over, but I think she's rather fond of it,” Draco said in embarrassment. 

Harry spun around. “Are you kidding? It's brilliant!”

Draco grinned. “Come on, let me show you the grounds.”

He led the way back out the front door, but instead of going down the drive, took a smaller path that followed the circumference of the house. As they passed through a formal garden filled with white roses, Harry thought happily how jealous Aunt Petunia would be if she could see it. 

“That's the Tudor knot garden,” Draco pointed out an elaborate maze made of low hedges, surrounding a flowing fountain. “The first Lucius Malfoy had it built when he was trying to court Queen Elizabeth I. She spurned him though, so he spent the rest of his life jinxing any other suitors she had.”

“He wanted to marry a Muggle?” Harry couldn't help but ask.

Draco nodded. “This was before the Statute of Secrecy, of course. Mother told me all about it; my father doesn't like to mention him.”

“Got it.”

They walked on, and soon left the formal gardens behind, and entered a vast expanse of lawn, bordered by yet more hedges. There were pale statues scattered over the grass, a large marble gazebo off to the side, and a man-made pond at the base of the gentle slope.

“Are – are they albino peacocks?” Harry pointed.

“Yes. They're something of a family tradition, though my father has improved the breeding program, I think. He no longer gets coloured peacocks, in any case.”

Harry stared at the birds as they skirted around the pond. He'd never seen albino anything before, not in person, and found the birds beautiful in an eerie sort of way. 

“Come _on_ , Potter!” Draco called impatiently. 

Harry tore his gaze away from the peacocks to find Draco standing outside a small shed, situated in front of a Quidditch pitch.

“You have your own Quidditch pitch?” Harry asked enviously.

Draco nodded happily. “It's in the centre of the grounds, too, so the Muggles can't see us flying. The Snitch and Bludgers are charmed so they don't go out of bounds.”

He disappeared inside the shed, emerging a minute later clutching his broomstick and a small trunk. “Ready to lose?”

“You wish!”

Draco put the trunk on the ground. “Tilly!” A small elf popped up next to him. Like Dobby it was wearing a filthy pillowcase, but this one was even smaller than him, and had brown eyes. 

“Yes Master Draco?” it squeaked.

“We need Harry's broomstick, returned to full size. And some juice.”

“Yes Master Draco,” it squeaked again, and disappeared with a small crack. 

“How many house-elves do you own?” Harry asked curiously.

Draco shrugged. “Not sure, exactly. Tilly's mine, and you've met Dobby; he mostly belongs to Father. I know Mother has one, but it's getting old now. And there are a few in the kitchen, gardens and laundry.”

A pop announced Tilly's return. “Here is your broomstick, sir.”

Harry took his Nimbus from her. “Thanks, Tilly.”

Harry and Draco spent the rest of the afternoon playing one-on-one Quidditch with the Quaffle and one Bludger. Each of them had a Beater's bat, but even so, they were considerably bruised by the time they stopped. Tilly had returned at some point and set up a small table with fresh apple juice and some sandwiches, and they tucked in as they compared bruises.

“Mother has some salve that will get rid of them, don't worry,” Draco assured Harry when he showed him his stomach. 

“Good, 'cause this really hurts. Though it's still better than being locked in my room,” Harry mused.

“About that... I think you should tell someone,” Draco said, turning serious.

“Who?”

“I don't know... Snape, maybe? I mean, you can't possibly want to go back there next summer.”

Harry picked up a sandwich gloomily. “I don't think I have much choice. I don't have any other family left. Besides, I think the Dursleys are too scared of your mum to try anything like this again!”

Draco smirked. “She is rather fierce when she's cross, isn't she? You should have seen her when my father said he wanted to send me abroad for school, instead of Hogwarts.”

“What happened?”

“Well, they had a screaming row, which was unusual, as they don't really shout much. I could hear them all the way from my room. Judging from the crashes, I think Mother demolished a large part of Father's study; it took most of the house-elves a week to get it sorted again. And then it all went quiet and a while later, Father came up and told me I'd be going to Hogwarts after all.”

“Well, I'm extra glad your mum's so scary, then,” Harry grinned. “Otherwise we never would've met.”

“True. Now come on, we need to wash up before dinner.”  


********

  
They had an hour before dinner, for which Harry was incredibly grateful when he entered his bathroom. It was bigger than his bedroom at the Dursleys', and the bath looked more like a pool. There was a separate shower that would have been big even for Hagrid, and a long counter with a deep sink in front of the mirror. It was all done up in green and white stone that matched the bedroom.

Harry filled the bath and added some bubble bath, which turned out to create sparkly bubbles that floated across the surface of the water. He got washed quickly and then swam around until the bubbles had all disappeared before finally climbing out. He wrapped a large fluffy towel around himself and padded into the closet, where the house-elves had evidently unpacked all his clothes. 

Harry carefully selected his best shirt and jeans; he had a feeling dinner with the Malfoys would be a fancy affair. He was trying unsuccessfully to flatten his hair into something neat when there was a knock at the door. 

“Come in,” he called. A few seconds later Draco strolled into the bathroom and stared around.

“What exactly did you do in your bath?” he asked finally.

Harry looked away from the mirror. There were large puddles over most of the floor, and a pile of soggy towels in the corner. “I, er, I'm not very good at swimming, and I made a mess, so I tried to clean it up but then I ran out of towels.”

“That's what house-elves are for. Honestly!” Draco shook his head. “Forget about your hair, we don't have all night.”

Harry put his brush down and straightened his shirt before following Draco out into the hallway. He was suddenly nervous about dinner. While Draco's mother had been perfectly nice to him, he wasn't looking forward to meeting his father. He remembered what Snape had told him about Mr Malfoy's attitude to Muggle-borns and half-bloods, and shivered.

Draco led him into a large dining room. There was a marble fireplace along one wall, and a long table that could have easily seated twenty people. There were four places set at one end of the table. As Draco and Harry took their seats on one side, a house-elf popped up beside them and poured them each a goblet of iced water before disappearing again. 

Mrs Malfoy walked in and took the seat opposite them. “Have you two had a good afternoon?”

They both nodded as Mr Malfoy walked in and took his seat at the head of the table. “Narcissa. Draco. Ah, and this must be Harry Potter.” His cold grey eyes surveyed Harry.

“It's nice to meet you,” he said nervously.

“Likewise, I'm sure,” Mr Malfoy drawled. “You're staying with us for the remainder of the summer, I understand.”

“Yes, dear. I've arranged it all with his aunt and uncle,” Mrs Malfoy said.

Harry and Draco shared a smile; she hadn't given the Dursleys much choice in the matter.

Another house-elf popped up next to Mrs Malfoy. “We'll have the elf-made wine, with half-glasses for the boys.” 

What followed was one of the oddest meals Harry had ever experienced. Mrs Malfoy dominated the conversation, and several times she gave Harry the impression she was steering it away from certain topics. Mr Malfoy was talking about people at the Ministry Harry had never heard of, so he concentrated on his food, which was better than even the Hogwarts food. Draco was telling him about each dish that was served, most of which consisted of food Harry had never heard of before. He was fairly certain a lot of the dishes were French. Certainly not English, in any case, he thought, as he listened to Draco reel off another incomprehensible name. He greatly enjoyed his first taste of wine, though.

Finally, Mr Malfoy departed for his study, and Mrs Malfoy rose as well. “Darling, I thought we might take a trip to Amesbury tomorrow, so make sure you're up at a reasonable hour, please. Good night.”

The boys said their good nights, then headed upstairs. 

“What's at Amesbury?” Harry asked.

“Shopping,” Draco said happily.


	2. In Which Harry Becomes Accustomed to Living at Malfoy Manor

The next morning, Harry was woken up by someone calling his name. He reached out blindly for his glasses and put them on, blinking down at the house-elf by his bed before he remembered where he was. 

“Master Draco is wanting you to join him in his room, sir,” squeaked the elf.

“Right, okay. Thanks,” Harry muttered. The elf disappeared, and Harry made his way next door.

He found Draco sitting up in bed, surrounded piles of letters and parcels. There were two breakfast trays next to him. 

“I thought you might like to get all the mail Dobby's been hoarding,” he said when he noticed Harry. “And you've some birthday gifts too.”

“Excellent!” Harry quickly settled himself next to Draco and they had breakfast before turning to the mail.

“Blimey, there's a lot here,” Harry said as he flicked through. Most of it was from Draco and Hermione, but there were a few from Pansy, Daphne and Theo, and even one or two from his other friends. 

“Well you did look rather pathetic when you begged us all to write to you.”

“Did not, you git!”

“You did too. You looked like you were being marched off to Azkaban as we left the Hogwarts Express. Of course, you did end up a prisoner...”

“What's Azkaban?”

“Wizard prison, of course. It's horrible, out on this rock in the middle of the North Sea... I'd rather not talk about it. We're celebrating your freedom, not getting us both depressed. Here, open your presents.”

Hagrid had sent him a package of rock cakes. “Er, you don't have any dogs, do you?”

Draco shook his head. “I'll get an elf to take them to the kitchen, maybe they can... Do something with them.”

“Right.” 

The next present was from Hermione. “New Quidditch gloves!” 

Draco picked one up and threw it down again, pouting. “These are real dragon leather.”

“Isn't that a good thing?” Harry asked in confusion. He liked his new gloves; they were dark green and very soft.

“Not when it overshadows what I got you, it isn't,” Draco said sulkily.

Harry rolled his eyes and reached for the last parcel. “I'm sure I'm going to like yours just as much.”

Draco's gift turned out to be two books. _A History of Parseltongue and Those Who Speak It_ was a thin book, dwarfed by the other, _An Encyclopaedia of Serpents_.

“That Parselmouth book isn't very long because there haven't been many of you,” Draco explained. “But the snake book looks at every species of snake, both magical and non-magical. And there's a section at the back that lists their uses in potions, and –”

Harry cut him off by jumping on him and giving him a fierce hug that half-buried him in the pile of pillows. He pulled back to look at the snake book as Draco sat up spluttering. Harry glanced at him before returning to the book. “Sorry, didn't mean to crush you like that. It's just, this is really thoughtful. I love it.”

Draco looked a little happier at that. “Good. I tried to find you a Parseltongue dictionary, but apparently they don't exist. The clerk I spoke to said there isn't a written language, which is just stupid. How can you teach anyone a language if you can't write it down?”

Harry frowned at the index as he replied distractedly. “Maybe it can't be taught?”

“Any language can be taught, Potter,” Draco scoffed. “In fact...”

When he didn't finish, Harry looked up. “In fact what, Draco?”

Draco looked uncharacteristically unsure of himself, which Harry found oddly endearing. “I was hoping you could teach me.”

Harry stared at him.

“Just a few phrases. So I could speak to Olamide, maybe.”

Harry shook his head quickly. “Sorry, no, it's not that I don't want to. I just don't know if I _can_. I mean, I didn't even know I could speak it until you pointed it out to me. So... I'll try, but don't get your hopes up. I've never taught anyone before, I'll probably be pants at it.”

Draco brightened. “That's not true. You're always teaching Theo and Tracey about Muggle stuff.”

“Well yeah, because they keep bugging me about it.”

“So you can teach. You just need to be properly motivated!” Draco beamed at him.

“I'm so going to regret this.”

********

  
When Harry and Draco walked into Mrs Malfoy's study, they found her sitting behind her desk.

“Ah, good morning boys. I just need to finish this letter to Polly Parkinson. I'll only be a minute.”

Harry looked around him as they waited. Mrs Malfoy's study was a bright, spacious room decorated in white wooden furniture and dark green fabrics. The large windows were opened to let in the summer breeze, and Harry made his way over to them to look out. Draco followed him.

“How much of this belongs to your family?” Harry asked.

“Hmm. Well, all the fields are ours, over to the stream over there... Oh, and the property extends partly into that wood over there.” Draco pointed them out. 

“Wow.”

Draco smirked. “And a few miles over there is Stonehenge. We could take you there, if you like?”

They chatted about Stonehenge for a while. According to Draco, it was a source of powerful magic, but difficult to harness for most wizards.

“I'm not quite sure why, Mother explained it to me once but I was quite young and didn't really understand,” he admitted.

An owl fluttered out of the window above their heads, and Mrs Malfoy came up behind them. “Sorry about that, but that woman gets ever so impatient if I don't respond quickly... Now, are you ready to go?”

Draco nodded. 

“Excellent. Harry, how about you? Draco's told me the two of you have some sort of shopping pact?”

“Er, yeah. But I need to go to Gringotts. I don't have much money on me,” he said awkwardly. “I'm sorry to be a bother.”

“Nonsense! While it wouldn't take long to Apparate to Gringotts, that will be unnecessary. The shop we're going to will be happy to send your bill to the goblins to sort out. We're some of their most valued customers, you see,” she said.

They made their way to the gates so that Mrs Malfoy could Apparate them again, as the Manor was warded against it. This time, Harry knew what to expect, but he still didn't find it at all enjoyable. Flying was definitely his favourite mode of transport. 

They'd Apparated into a clump of trees in a small park. They straightened up their clothes and quickly left the park. Mrs Malfoy strolled alongside them as Draco pointed out various shops to Harry. 

“And this is Mother's favourite clothing store.”

“I wouldn't say favourite, darling. It's just the closest that caters to witches,” she corrected.

Harry looked at the store doubtfully. It was small and dark, and he could just make out the sign above the display windows. _Ainsley's Emporium_ , it read. He followed the Malfoys inside and stopped in confusion. 

He didn't think he could have imagined a place that they were less likely to shop at. The clothes inside were outdated and crushed messily onto the shelves and hangers, with no organisational system he could figure out. There was also a pervading smell of mothballs. He frowned and moved closer to Draco as Mrs Malfoy stood in front of the dingy counter. 

A bored looking teenager put down her magazine and looked up at her. “Can I help you?”

“May I speak with Mr Ainsley, please?” Mrs Malfoy asked calmly. Apparently she was used to the service here.

The girl sighed as she slouched over to a curtained doorway. “Mr Ainsley! Customer to see ya!” She went back to her post behind the register. “He'll be here in a sec,” she said, then started flipping through her magazine again. 

They heard footsteps behind the curtain before it was yanked to one side to reveal a small, mousy looking man. His dark eyes lit up when he spotted his customers. 

“Mrs Malfoy! Please, do come through. Ah, and you've brought your son today, good... And – my god, is that Harry Potter?”

Harry tried to flatten his hair over his scar as he shuffled even closer to Draco.

“Yes. If you're unable to serve us without gawking at him we shall take our business elsewhere,” Mrs Malfoy said disdainfully.

“No need for that, no indeed. Come through, come through.” Ainsley recovered his composure and held open the curtain for them. 

They walked into a cramped hallway. Ainsley squeezed past them, unlocked a door and held it open for them. The Malfoys disappeared inside, clearly used to this routine. Harry followed and stopped on the threshold. 

What he had been expecting to be a small back room was instead a large, well-lit store. It was easily as big as the Great Hall at Hogwarts, and filled with neatly ordered clothing. Jeans and t-shirts took up as much floor space as the full wizard robes did, and mannequins were displaying a mixture of both styles of clothing. Shoes of all sorts covered one wall, and there were accessories and pyjamas as well.

“Ah, I take it you've never seen a wizarding department store then?” Ainsley asked Harry as he squeezed past him. “More variety than any shop in Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade. Now,” he turned his attention back to Mrs Malfoy. “How can I help you today? A new set of formal robes, perhaps?”

Mrs Malfoy smiled. “I don't need anything today. We're here for Harry. He needs a full wardrobe, as his existing one is unsuitable for him.”

Ainsley turned his eyes on Harry and gave him a thorough once over. “Ah, yes, I can see what you mean, ma'am. I think we'll be able to get him properly sorted out today.”

Before Harry knew what was happening, Ainsley had guided him into a large changing room and was taking his measurements. He was reminded of the way Ollivander had measured him when he bought his wand, but the memory soon faded. Where Ollivander had been quiet and a little creepy, Ainsley was a cheery fellow. The way he kept saying “ah” made Harry think of a pirate, and he gave a series of friendly but detailed instructions to a non-stop stream of assistants who came in to join them. They quickly returned, each with armfuls of clothing which were hung up on hooks around the room. 

“There we are now, Mr Potter. If you'll just try on this for starters. Keep anything that takes your fancy, and discard anything that doesn't in that basket over there.”

Harry stared at him as he left and shut the door quietly, before turning to the clothes and shrugging and picking up a pair of jeans. 

Harry had just pulled a black jumper over his head when there was a soft knock on the door. He opened it to find Mrs Malfoy smiling down at him. Her smile widened when she saw his outfit. 

“Oh, Harry, I do hope you're thinking of buying that one, it suits you so well,” she gushed, then came into the room. 

“Er, yeah, I was,” Harry replied.

Mrs Malfoy started going through the pile of clothes he'd been thinking of buying. “You have surprisingly good taste for your first time shopping. Though these won't do at all,” she threw a number of shirts and jumpers to one side. “The style is fine, but those colours won't suit you at all.”

She straightened up and regarded him. “Hmm. Black looks good on you. With your colouring, I think you should also stick to dark greens, blues, greys, and perhaps some strong reds. Yellow is most definitely out, however,” she nudged the offending garment with her foot. 

“Er, okay.” Harry had never given much thought to what colours suited him. He was mostly happy when Dudley's hand downs were only six sizes too big instead of ten.

“I think that's casual clothes covered for now. I'll get Ainsley to try you for a set of robes – you can't wear your school robes in public, you know – and some winter coats. And I really must go help Draco with the jeans he promised you he'd buy.”

It was some time later that Mrs Malfoy declared they were done. Yet more shop assistants had appeared to take all of Harry's selections to the register while he was directed to pick out shoes and accessories.

“If you'll just sign here, Mr Potter, I'll owl this to Gringotts to settle,” Ainsley pushed a piece of parchment over to Harry. He signed quickly, trying not to think of the price. Still, it wasn't everyday he bought an entire wardrobe, he thought, as he pocketed the long receipt.

Mrs Malfoy didn't even glance at the total as she signed for her and Draco's things. She'd said with mock guilt she couldn't resist a new pair of heels. “You'll have these delivered to the Manor?”

“Of course, ma'am.” 

Business done, Ainsley escorted them back into the Muggle store in front, before bowing them onto the street. 

Mrs Malfoy sighed happily. “Well, Harry, I expect you're eager to get home and look at your new purchases, but how about we have lunch first? There's a bakery not too far away that does the most exquisite pastries, and Draco's fond of their milkshakes.”

As they walked along the village street, Harry couldn't help but look in every window at his reflection. He'd worn one of his new outfits out of the store, and was amazed to see how much better he looked in clothes that fit properly. 

“Please tell me you won't be challenging Blaise for the title of vainest Slytherin,” Draco drawled after a while of this. 

Harry just laughed. “Don't you mean your title?”

“I'm sure I don't know what you mean,” Draco said haughtily.

“Oh yeah?” Harry reached up and quickly messed up Draco's hair, drawing a howl from the blonde, who gave him a shove. 

They stopped rough housing when Mrs Malfoy led them into the bakery. Five minutes later and Harry and Draco were happily trying each other's milkshakes as Mrs Malfoy sipped her coffee and they waited for their food.

“Is there anywhere you'd like to go after lunch?” she asked them. Draco took his banana shake back as he shook his head.

Harry took a sip of his caramel shake before replying. “Actually, if it's not too much trouble, I'd like to stop off at a supermarket. Or a convenience store.”

“Of course it's not too much trouble. What were you after?” Mrs Malfoy smiled encouragingly.

“Just some batteries.”

“What are batteries?” Draco asked.

“They're, er, well... They're little tubes with electricity in them, that Muggles use to make portable electric devices work,” Harry explained awkwardly. He only had a basic understanding of them, himself.

“What do you need them for?” Draco continued.

“My Walkman. Er, that's a portable music player.”

Draco leaned forward with interest, but Mrs Malfoy was shaking her head. “They won't do any good, Harry. Your music device won't operate at the Manor, nor at Hogwarts. Too much magic in the atmosphere for Muggle technology to work.”

“Oh.” All that time spent saving up for the tape, and now he couldn't even use it.

“Don't fret. There's a simple charm I can perform later, that will allow your device to work as normal. And it won't require batteries, either.”

“Oh! Thank you,” Harry told her gratefully. “And, thank you for today. Really.”

Mrs Malfoy's face took on a curious expression as she replied. “It was nothing, Harry, really. The clothes those Muggles had forced on you were atrocious. It was about time you got to choose something you like. In fact, when we get home, I'll destroy your old clothes for you, if you like.”

Harry considered this. “Would it be okay if I burnt them, instead?”

“I don't see why not. Draco can show you where we have our bonfires.”

Draco grinned and launched into a detailed explanation of exactly what a Malfoy bonfire consisted of as Harry sat back in satisfaction. Shopping was marvellous.

********

  
When they returned to the Manor Harry went straight up to his room to sort out his new clothes. He'd nearly gotten everything unpacked onto his bed when there was a soft knock at the door. He looked up to find Mrs Malfoy watching him.

“I just stopped by to perform the charm for your music player,” she said.

“Great, just a second.” 

Harry dug through the mess on his bed and handed it to her. She turned it over curiously, jumping a little when she pressed the eject button and the tape compartment popped open. She delicately closed it again then waved her wand over it before handing it back.

“Thank you.”

Mrs Malfoy just smiled and walked out, shutting the door quietly. Harry immediately dived onto his bed and rummaged around until he found his headphones. He quickly pressed play and grinned when the music started as normal, before returning to his shopping.

Shortly afterwards Harry was surveying his new clothes and thinking over the events of the day.

“ _I know someday you'll have a beautiful life, I know you'll be a star_ ,” he sang quietly as he hung his new robes and matching cloak in the closet. They were a dark green, and one of his favourite new garments. “ _In somebody else's sky but why, why, why can't it be, why can't it be miiiiine?_ ”

He was startled when a hand gripped his shoulder and spun him around. He looked into Draco's amused eyes and blushed. 

“Pining for someone, are we?”

“Pearl Jam,” he muttered as he removed his headphones.

Draco tilted his head. “Who the hell is she?”

Harry looked up from the jeans he was folding. “What? No, they're a grunge band from Seattle.”

Draco stared at him. “They're a what from where?”

Harry stared back, before rewinding to the start of the song and putting a headphone in Draco's ear and pressing play again. “Just listen.”

Draco jumped a bit when the music started playing in his ear, but was soon relaxing against the headboard on Harry's bed, watching him sort out his clothes. Harry noticed out of the corner of his eye that Draco was tapping a foot in time with the music. When he finished he flopped onto the bed and grinned. 

“What do you think?”

Draco looked at him and switched the earphone to the ear further away from Harry. “They're... They're good. Although it is entirely unnatural to have the music playing inside my ear.”

“I can talk to snakes, but you think the way I listen to music is weird?” Harry laughed. 

“Exactly.”

“Git.”

Draco hit him with a pillow. “Prat. Now come on, let's go get the bonfire going.”

********

  
Dinner that night was just the three of them, as Mr Malfoy had business with someone from the Ministry that was running late. As Mrs Malfoy apologised to Harry about this, he couldn't help feeling pleased. While he and Draco had been burning his old clothes, Harry had noticed Mr Malfoy watching them from an upstairs window. Draco hadn't seen him, and Harry didn't mention it. He'd been quite creeped out by Mr Malfoy's expression.

Mrs Malfoy retreated to her study after dinner, and the boys to the lounge. Draco was reading a wizarding children's series that Harry had never heard of before, while Harry was methodically working his way through his snake encyclopaedia. It was slow going but completely engrossing, and he didn't hear Draco quietly get up and leave. 

Harry jumped when a chess table was levitated in front of the armchair he was in. He looked up to see Draco and his mother walking into the room.

“Draco tells me you're becoming quite a formidable player,” Mrs Malfoy said as she seated herself opposite Harry.

“Not really. He still wins most of the time.”

“Well then, how about I play him, and you can watch him get thoroughly trumped?” she asked conspiratorially.

Harry grinned back and closed his book. “Sounds good to me.”

Draco rolled his eyes and took a seat behind the white pieces. “You're forgetting that I managed to beat McGonagall's chessmen. That should count for something.”

“You got your trophy,” Harry replied.

“And I believe Harry and Hermione helped, darling,” Mrs Malfoy said.

“Not really,” said Harry with a wry grin. “Draco mostly kept us safe from the other pieces. Although Hermione got to kill a pawn.”

Mrs Malfoy smiled fondly at her son, then snapped her fingers. A house-elf popped into the room with a tea tray, poured for all of them, and disappeared again. The conversation was light as Harry sipped his tea and watched as Mrs Malfoy quickly manoeuvred Draco into checkmate. Draco grumbled and reached for his tea as Mrs Malfoy cast a repairing charm on the shattered pieces and set the board up again.

“Care for a game, Harry?”

Harry stared at her. “After seeing that? No thanks. You'd beat me in four moves! Besides, I know how much Draco has missed this. And I have a stack of mail to go through.”

“You sure?” Draco asked, even as he moved his first piece.

“Yeah. I've already waited a day to let Hermione know I'm free from the Dursleys. I don't want to know what she'd say if I left it much longer.”

Draco shuddered lightly. “She'd probably send you a howler.”

“What's that?”

“A letter that you dictate out loud to. It then repeats the words to the recipient. Usually with a lot of yelling,” Mrs Malfoy said.

“Okay then. Definitely replying tonight, in that case. Good night.”

Harry left them to their chess game and returned to his room. He changed happily into his new pyjamas, wondering how long it would take until he stopped grinning foolishly every time he put on his new clothes. Quite a while, he thought. Not only did he like the green and white stripes, but they actually fit. That would take some time to get used to. 

He grabbed his mail and settled down on the bed. He hesitated a second, then called out uncertainly. “Tilly?” He smiled in relief as the little elf appeared by his bed.

“What is sir wanting?” she squeaked.

“Could I please have some hot chocolate? If it's not too much bother?”

“Of course, sir!” Tilly disappeared, and returned a minute later with a silver tray. There was a matching jug, a mug, and a bowl of marshmallows with a tiny pair of tongs. 

“Can Tilly get sir anything else?”

“No, this is great. Thank you.”

Tilly bowed and disappeared, leaving Harry alone in his room. He filled his mug, piling it high with marshmallows, then began sorting out his mail. It took him a few hours and many mugs of hot chocolate until he'd read through everything and written out replies. Finally, he had letters for Hermione, Pansy, Daphne, Theo, Blaise and Tracey. He'd also made a birthday card for Neville, drawing a red and gold lion on the cover, as he knew Neville's birthday was sometime around his own. 

“Tilly?”

The elf popped up at once. “What can Tilly do, sir?”

“Can you show me where my owl is, please?”

Tilly looked at him curiously. “Tilly can take sir's mail to his owl herself, sir.”

Harry shook his head. “No, I'd like to see her. Actually, could you get some meat from the kitchen first? Maybe some of what we had for dinner tonight, if there's anything left over?”

“Of course, sir.”

When the elf disappeared, Harry quickly put on his dressing gown and slippers, and picked up his letters.

“Is sir ready to go?” Tilly asked, holding a napkin-covered bundle.

“Sure.”

Harry followed the elf as she led the way down the corridor, down the stairs and through the foyer. As they walked down the corridor where the Malfoys had their studies, Harry noticed that Mr Malfoy's study had light coming from under the door, and resolved to be extra quiet on his return trip. He really didn't want to see the man alone at this time of night. 

At the end of the hallway Tilly opened the last door and handed Harry the bundle of meat. “Can Tilly do anything else, sir?”

“No thanks.”

Tilly disappeared as Harry walked into the room. The Malfoy owlery was much smaller than the one at Hogwarts, but the smell was the same. He found Hedwig perched next to Thoth, and grinned at the thought of them becoming friends, when he noticed they weren't alone. 

“Dobby!”

Dobby spun around and looked at Harry with a guilty look. “Harry Potter! Can Dobby do anything for Harry Potter? Maybe send his mail for him?”

Harry studied the elf through narrowed eyes. “No, I'm good thanks. What were you doing with Hedwig?”

“Nothing, sir! Dobby is not doing anything with Harry Potter's owl, sir!”

“Do I have to go ask Mrs Malfoy if my owl's okay?”

Dobby shook his head furiously. “Harry Potter is not needing to do that, sir. Dobby was – was just talking to Harry Potter's owl, sir. Dobby was trying to persuade her that she shouldn't take any mail for Harry Potter, sir. But Harry Potter's owl is too loyal to Harry Potter, and wouldn't listen to Dobby.”

Dobby threw Hedwig a dirty look, which she ignored as she watched Harry unwrap the meat. He fed her a large portion, before giving a piece to Thoth. “Good girl,” he murmured. “Dobby, why don't you want me to return to Hogwarts?”

Dobby wrung the hem of his pillowcase. “Dobby can't say, sir. Dobby just wants Harry Potter to be safe, and Hogwarts won't be safe this year.”

“Why not?” Harry frowned and absently gave Hedwig more meat.

“Dobby can't say, sir!” the elf repeated, before running to the wall and thumping his head on the stone. 

Harry rushed forward and pulled the elf away from the wall. He looked into Dobby's slightly crossed eyes and frowned. “Alright, I won't ask that again. Just – just stay away from Hedwig, alright?”

“Yes sir,” Dobby said sadly.

“Thanks.” Harry turned to Hedwig, gave her last piece of meat and attached the letters to her leg. “Can you make sure everyone gets their letters?” 

Hedwig gave a happy trill, and stepped onto his proffered arm. He walked over to the open window. “And go to Pansy last, okay? I don't trust her not to open someone else's mail.” Hedwig nipped his finger affectionately and took off into the night. Harry watched her go, pleased that she'd recovered from being locked up for so long. 

When Harry turned around he found Dobby staring at him, and sighed. “How about we make a deal, alright?”

Dobby looked at him suspiciously. “Harry Potter wants to make a deal with Dobby, sir?”

“Yes. If you stop trying to prevent me from going to Hogwarts, I won't tell Mr Malfoy what you've been up to.”

Dobby gave a frightened squeak and nodded his head quickly. “Dobby can make that deal, Harry Potter.”

“Great.” Harry had had no plans to tell Mr Malfoy anything about Dobby's activities, and held out his hand. When Dobby stared at it, Harry walked forward and took the elf's little hand in his. This must be what Hagrid feels like, he thought as he shook Dobby's hand. When he let go, Dobby stared at his hand for a moment, his eyes filling with tears. “Er, Dobby? Are you alright?”

“Yes, sir. Dobby has heard of Harry Potter's greatness, and his goodness. But Dobby has never been asked to shake a wizard's hand before.”

Harry grinned. “Well, you have now.”

“Yes sir.” Dobby smiled back and disappeared. 

Draco was right, mused Harry as he made his way back his room. Dobby was definitely a weird elf.


	3. In which Harry Learns of a Crush, and Meets the New Defence Teacher

Two days later Harry was doing his Charms homework as he waited for Draco to wake up, when Tilly popped into his room with Hedwig perched on her arm.

“Tilly is bringing you your owl as soon as she returned, sir,” beamed the little elf.

“Thanks, Tilly,” Harry said as he gently took the letter off Hedwig's leg. “Could you please give her some bacon and then return her to the owlery?”

“Of course, sir!”

Harry gave Hedwig one last pat before the elf disappeared with her, then settled down to read it. 

_Dear Harry,  
I'm so pleased that Draco was able to rescue you – we were both so worried when you weren't returning our letters. I'm not quite sure if I believe his mother said everything you say she did, and I certainly hope she doesn't get in trouble for it if it was true. But if it means the Dursleys are better behaved to you next year I suppose it will have been worth it._

_I hope you enjoy staying with Draco, but don't forget to finish your homework now that you're able to! I've been so busy with school work that the summer has simply flown by. My parents and I are going into Diagon Alley next Wednesday to buy my school things, it would be wonderful if you and Draco could come then, too. Let me know what he says._

_Love,  
Hermione_

Harry put the letter down and checked the time. Eleven o'clock was more than enough of a sleep in for Draco, he decided, and headed next door and knocked. He waited a few seconds before knocking again, then opened the door. 

There was no movement in the dark room. Harry quietly crossed to the windows and yanked the curtains back, letting sunshine fill the room. There was a groan from the bed. Harry sniggered and ran over, throwing himself bodily onto the empty half of the bed. There was a louder groan as Draco attempted to roll away.

“Oh, no you don't! Time to get up!” Harry chirped.

Draco cracked open one eye. “No, it's not. And it's certainly too early to be that cheerful.”

Harry smirked and deliberately jostled the bed more than necessary as he sat back against the pillows. “I got a letter from Hermione this morning. She wants to know if we can meet up in Diagon Alley. She's going there next Wednesday.”

Draco sat up suddenly. “Did you reply?”

“No, I came to talk to you about it. We only got our Hogwarts letters yesterday, I hadn't really thought about when we might go,” Harry said.

“Oh, good,” Draco said and relaxed back against the pillows.

“What's the problem?”

“The problem is that I really don't want her meeting my father,” Draco said quietly. 

“Why – oh, he still doesn't like her?”

Draco snorted. “No, he still doesn't like her. I haven't mentioned her to him at all this summer after what he said the first time I did so.”

Harry rearranged himself on the pillows so he was facing Draco. “What did he say?”

Draco shook his head. “I'm not repeating it. It wasn't pleasant, let's leave it at that.”

“Okay. But what if your mum took us? She doesn't mind Hermione, right?”

Draco shrugged. “No, she acts the same when I'm talking about Hermione as when I'm talking about one of our Slytherin friends. And she was quite impressed by her solving Snape's potion puzzle last year. It just depends on which one of them will be taking us to Diagon Alley this year.”

********

  
As it turned out, it was Mr Malfoy taking them this year. On the same Wednesday that Hermione would be there. As soon as he'd found out, Draco had owled Hermione and told her to avoid him and Harry if she saw them with his father.

“Just don't mention her, alright?” Draco whispered yet again. He and Harry were waiting for Mr Malfoy in the foyer, both clutching their Hogwarts letters.

Harry rolled his eyes. “What do you think I am, some kind of Hufflepuff?”

Draco made a show of considering him. “Well...”

Harry elbowed him. “I'm a Slytherin, you git!”

Draco shoved him back. “You were acting like a Gryffindor last year when we went after the Stone...”

Just as Harry was about to shove Draco back, Mr Malfoy strode into the foyer, buckling his cloak around his shoulders. “Come along, I want to get this over and done with.”

The boys straightened up and followed him silently. When they stepped into the bright August sunshine, Harry swore mentally. Draco had all but forced him to wear his cloak today, saying that his father wouldn't be pleased if either of them tried to go to Diagon Alley in Muggle clothing. Harry really didn't want to argue with Mr Malfoy, but he couldn't help feeling resentful as he followed him down the drive. 

When they walked through the gates, Harry felt a hand grab his upper arm, and a second later came the horrible twisting crush of Apparition. They reappeared in an alcove in the Leaky Cauldron. Mr Malfoy handed Draco a bag of coins. “I've errands to run. I'll meet you two at Flourish and Blotts in two hours.”

As his father strode off, Draco turned to Harry. “Where to?”

“I need to get some money,” Harry said.

“Gringotts it is then,” Draco said. He'd only taken a few steps before there was a loud squeal of “Draco!”, and he was enveloped by a large quantity of brown hair.

“Hi, Daphne,” Harry said with amusement.

“And Harry!” Daphne let go of Draco and hugged Harry. She pulled back and looked him up and down. “Wow, Harry, you look great. Really great.”

“Thanks,” Harry said in embarrassment.

“And I'm hideous, is that it?” Draco cut in.

Daphne rolled her eyes. “You know you look good. But now Harry does too, and I wanted to give him some positive reinforcement.”

“If you're going to make such a fuss, I'll go back to wearing my old clothes,” Harry teased her.

“What? No, I won't let you,” Daphne pouted at him.

Draco laughed. “Relax, Daphne, we've burnt all his old clothes. He'll just have to get used to the attention.”

Daphne dimpled at Harry. “Good. Now, what are you two up to?”

“We were on our way to Gringotts to get Harry's money.”

Daphne made a face. “Ugh, boring. Maybe I'll catch you later,” she said, then returned to her family. Harry saw a younger girl who had to be her sister; she looked like a miniature Daphne. 

As Harry took out his wand and tapped the wall that lead to Diagon Alley, Draco elbowed him. “She likes you.”

Harry snorted and stepped through the archway. “No she doesn't.”

“She gave you her special smile. The one with all the dimples,” Draco persisted. 

“I think I'd know if someone liked me, you git.”

Draco gave him an odd look. “No, you'd be the last to know. Trust me.”

Harry opened his mouth to further argue the point, but something about Draco's expression stopped him. “Whatever. Come on, let's get this over with.”

Draco followed him into the cool hall of Gringotts. A few minutes later, they were squeezed into a cart along with a goblin, and were travelling at breakneck speeds along the twisty track to Harry's vault. The ride was even more enjoyable than last year, since he didn't have a queasy Hagrid in the cart with him. 

When Harry opened the door to his vault, Draco's eyes widened. “You're rich!”

“Well, yeah,” Harry replied as he shovelled coins into his money bag. 

“But – why'd you take so long to buy nice clothes? And there are so many things you don't have that you should buy!”

“Wasn't really a priority. And this has to last me until I finish school, at least.”

“Huh, I didn't think about that,” Draco said, and scuffed his foot on the stone floor. 

Bag finally full, Harry locked the door and pocketed the key. “Don't worry. It's nice that you don't think of me as some tragic orphan.”

“Harry, I...” Draco stopped, looking upset. Behind them, the goblin cleared his throat impatiently, and they scrambled to get back into the cart. They hurtled back up to the main hall, where Harry made sure to exchange some of his coins into Muggle money. He wanted to have some money for next summer.

Draco was still uncharacteristically quiet when they left Gringotts.

“Feel like a sundae?” Harry asked brightly.

“We only had breakfast an hour ago,” Draco said.

“True. But that wasn't a sundae. Come on.”

Harry set off for Fortescue's, trusting that Draco would follow. He could never resist anything sweet, and Harry thought it was just the thing to snap him out of his sour mood. 

Sure enough, Draco had perked up by the time they finished their sundaes. “I want to look at Quality Quidditch Supplies. Supposedly, they've got the new Nimbus 2001 in.”

“Sounds good,” Harry agreed. 

When they got there, there was a crowd of kids in front of the window, and they had to push through to get a glimpse of the new broom. Draco stared at it enviously, while Harry told himself that his old Nimbus 2000 was flying just fine. 

“I'm going to make my father buy me one,” Draco said as they eased out of the crowd. 

“Maybe he'll buy you one if you get on the team,” Harry suggested. 

They had time for a quick stop at a stationary store, where Harry picked up more drawing supplies, before they had to meet Mr Malfoy at Flourish and Blotts. They found this store just as crowded as Quality Quidditch Supplies had been, but this crowd was made up of middle aged witches. A banner in the front window proclaimed that Gilderoy Lockhart would be signing copies of his autobiography.

“What terrible planning. You would think they would wait until the Hogwarts rush is over, considering most students buy their books here,” grumbled Draco as they squeezed inside.

“Isn't he the bloke who wrote almost the entire book list this year?” Harry asked, fishing said list out of his pocket.

“Yes. Our new Defence teacher must be a fan, I guess. I just hope they have enough copies left,” said Draco. 

They inched past the line of witches, most of whom were clutching copies of Lockhart's books. Over to one side was a large, garishly coloured display of the books, and they gratefully picked up what they needed.

“Now we just need _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2_ ,” said Harry.

“Should be over there, we can cut through the line,” Draco said, and proceeded to do just that. Harry followed him in time to see Draco collide with a photographer who was focused on Lockhart.

“Out of the way, you, this is for the _Daily Prophet_ ,” he snarled at them. 

“That paper's a useless rag,” Draco retorted angrily. “Now get out of _my_ way.”

Lockhart heard the commotion and looked up at Draco, before his eyes landed on Harry and he leapt to his feat. “It _can't_ be Harry Potter?”

The crowd turned as one to look at Harry, and Lockhart himself lunged forward and dragged him to the front, making him drop his pile of books. Harry looked out into the crowd, and saw a group of people with red hair. Oh good, Weasley was here to witness his humiliation. He glanced away to where Draco looked like he couldn't decide whether to scowl or laugh.

Harry felt his hand grabbed, and then Lockhart was shaking it enthusiastically for the camera, telling Harry to smile. Harry scowled up at him and tried to back away, but Lockhart wasn't having any of it. When he let go of Harry's hand, he threw his arm around Harry's shoulders and pulled him in close.

“Ladies and gentlemen, what an extraordinary moment this is! The perfect moment for me to make a little announcement I've been sitting on for some time!” Lockhart paused as he smiled at everyone. Harry stared at his mouth; he'd never seen someone show that many teeth before. It was blinding.

“When young Harry here – stay still!” he hissed at the squirming Harry and cleared his throat. “As I was saying. When Harry walked into Flourish and Blotts, he only wanted to buy my autobiography, _Magical Me_. Little did he know that he would shortly be getting much more than my autobiography, _Magical Me_. He and his school mates will, in fact, be getting the real, magical me. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have great pleasure and pride in announcing that this September, I will be taking up the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!”

As the crowd applauded wildly, Lockhart dumped his entire works into Harry's arms. Harry took the opportunity to escape and quickly headed back to Draco. He found the blonde pink in the face from laughter.

“Glad you enjoyed that,” Harry muttered.

“As if you didn't love that, Potter,” came a voice from behind him. 

Harry spun around to find Ron sneering at him. Next to him was a girl who must be his sister. She was standing next to a cauldron and staring wide eyed at Harry. Draco stopped laughing and stepped up beside Harry.

“Jealous of a little attention, are you?” Draco sneered back. “Must be hard, having so many siblings. I bet mummy and daddy just forget all about you.”

As if to prove his point, the twins bounded over and pushed Ron out of the way. 

“It's the Boy-Who-Lived!”

“Can we have your autograph?”

“Or maybe a picture?”

“Or a signed picture?”

Harry bristled with annoyance as Mr Weasley came over. “Boys! Ginny! What are you doing? It's mad in here, let's go outside.”

“Well, well, well – Arthur Weasley.” Mr Malfoy had finally arrived, and was standing with his hand on Draco's shoulder. 

“Lucius,” Mr Weasley nodded.

Harry looked between the two men who were glaring daggers at each other, then turned to Draco and gave him a questioning look. Draco frowned slightly and shook his head as his father pulled an old schoolbook out of the Weasley girl's cauldron. 

“Ah, the rewards of being a disgrace to the name of wizard,” Mr Malfoy said, as he flipped through the book disdainfully. 

“We have a very different idea of what disgraces the name of wizard, Malfoy,” replied Mr Weasley.

“And yet I'm able to adequately provide for my family, though given the amount of blood traitors you've spawned –” Mr Malfoy sneered.

Mr Malfoy was cut off as Mr Weasley gave a yell and tackled him. They knocked the cauldron over and crashed into a bookshelf, showering books down on the witches still in line. The twins were yelling “fight, fight!” as the two men rolled around on the floor. Harry and Draco jumped backwards as an assistant came rushing towards them to break up the fight, and then a shadow fell over them. Harry looked up to see Hagrid walking through the crowd. 

“Break it up there, gents,” he said, and then pulled the two men apart. Both of them were dishevelled; Mr Malfoy had a cut over one eye, and Mr Weasley had a split lip. Mr Malfoy was still holding the book he'd grabbed out of the cauldron. 

“Here, girl – take your book –” he thrust it into her hands. “It's the best your father can give you.” He twisted out of Hagrid's grip and snarled at Draco. “Buy your books and let's go!”

Harry and Draco quickly went and grabbed the last book on their lists and paid, before making their way back to Mr Malfoy. Hagrid and the Weasleys had all disappeared by the time they returned. They followed Mr Malfoy in silence as he led the way out of the shop. When they got outside he looked at Draco. “Have you anything left to buy?”

When Draco shook his head, Mr Malfoy grabbed them both by the arm and Disapparated them back to the manor. He strode off up the drive muttering to himself, leaving the boys to carry their books behind him. 

“So what was that all about?” Harry finally asked.

“My father has a mutual dislike with Mr Weasley,” Draco said. “Apparently, Weasley thinks Father is a Dark wizard, or has Dark artefacts or something, and Father thinks the whole family are blood traitors.”

“Blood traitors?” 

“Pure-bloods who associate with Muggle-borns.”

Harry looked at him sideways. “Er, wouldn't that make you a blood traitor? Because of Hermione?”

“Shh!” Draco glared at him. “And, well, yes, I suppose it would. But don't mention that while we're here, alright? I don't want my father thinking that!”

“Sorry.”

They walked the rest of the way in silence, before going to their own rooms.

********

  
Harry spent the rest of the afternoon going through his new books. He'd finished all his holiday homework; an essay for each subject. The only class that hadn't assigned anything was Defence. Apparently there was one advantage to having the teacher possessed by Voldemort, Harry mused. His grin quickly faded as he started going through Lockhart's books. None of them were what he would call a textbook. Instead, they simply detailed Lockhart's exploits against various dark creatures. Harry didn't know how the man was planning to teach a class from them.

A knock on his door made him look up, and he saw Draco standing there a little uncertainly.

“Come in,” Harry said, sitting up and moving his books over.

Draco walked in slowly and sat next to him. “I'm sorry about earlier,” he offered.

Harry shrugged. “It wasn't your fault, it was your dad and Mr Weasley.”

Draco shook his head. “No, I'm sorry for getting mad when we got home. When you said I was a you-know-what.”

“No, I should have thought before I said something like that when your dad could hear me,” Harry replied.

“Apology accepted,” Draco said, and stuck out his hand. Harry ignored it and pulled Draco into a hug. Draco was stiff at first, but soon returned the hug.

“So what have you been doing since we got back?” Harry asked as he pulled himself away.

“Writing a letter to Hermione, actually. Just sent off Thoth now.”

“Didn't you write to her the other day?”

Draco sighed. “Yes, but I wanted to apologise to her. She started to come over to us during the fight and I had to make her stay away.”

“I'm sure she'll understand,” Harry said consolingly.

“Yes, but one should always observe proper etiquette. And that includes apologising when necessary.”

“You sound like your mum.”

“Who do you think taught me manners?” Draco raised an eyebrow.

“Fair enough. Listen, have you had a look at these Lockhart books?”

“Not yet. Are they any good?” Draco picked up the closest one.

“For adventure stories? Sure. For textbooks? Not so much.”

“What do you mean?”

“I dunno. Just... Something seems off about all of this. I don't understand how someone could have done all of this, you know? And if he's so good at fighting Dark creatures, why is he coming to teach at Hogwarts?”

Draco groaned and fell back into the pillows. “Is this your new paranoia for the year? What _is_ it with you?”

Harry whacked him with a pillow before flopping down beside him. “You know I was right about Quirrell.”

“Not Snape.”

“Yeah, okay. But still, I changed my mind about him pretty quickly. This guy just seems like a massive wanker.”

“That's just because he made you get your picture taken,” Draco smirked. 

“You enjoyed that way too much, you git.”

“Of course I did, you prat. You should have seen your face! Of course, you'll get to see it tomorrow in the _Daily Prophet_.” Draco eyed him sideways. “Everyone will get to see it then.”

His laughter drowned out Harry's groan of despair.


	4. In Which Harry Returns to Hogwarts and Finds His Dorm has Been Redecoratd

The rest of August was less eventful than their trip to Diagon Alley. Harry and Draco spent most of it playing Quidditch or hanging out in Draco's room. Harry had started trying to teach Parseltongue to Draco, but it was slow going, and all he'd learnt so far were the most basic phrases. Mrs Malfoy took them out to lunch a few times, and one night, they visited Stonehenge. It was the first time Harry had ever been to a national monument, and he couldn't hide his excitement.

Finally, on the last night, everyone sat down for one last dinner. Harry had grown used to the rich food the Malfoys liked to eat, and was happy to see that quail was being served, as it was one of his new favourites. 

“Are you both packed?” Mrs Malfoy asked.

“Mostly,” shrugged Draco.

“Well, when you're finished, you can join your father and myself in the lounge for tea.”

“Yes, Mother.”

Back in his room, Harry stared at his trunk in dismay. True, he loved his new clothes, but he hadn't thought of how he was going to fit them all in his trunk. And the Lockhart books took up more room than the rest of his books combined. Sighing, he started gathering all his things and putting them on his bed in neat piles. 

An hour later, he had his backpack for the train packed and was just wondering if he could get Hedwig to carry some things for him, when Draco strolled into the room.

“Aren't you done yet?” he asked, peering into the trunk.

“No! I've got too much stuff. Stupid Lockhart books take up half the trunk,” Harry grumbled.

Draco rolled his eyes. “Tilly!”

The elf popped into the room. “Yes, Master Draco?”

“Finish packing Harry's things, would you? Honestly, Potter, you're such a Muggle sometimes.”

“Cheers, Malfoy,” Harry replied, as Tilly set to work.

Draco wandered over to one of the bedside tables and sifted through the drawings on it as Harry watched Tilly pack his trunk. In just a few minutes, she had his books stacked neatly on one side of the trunk, with his tightly folded clothes on the other, cushioning his more delicate potions equipment.

“Is sirs wanting anything else?” Tilly asked as she looked up at them expectantly.

“No, this was great. Thanks for all your help this summer,” Harry said.

Tilly beamed at him. “It is being Tilly's pleasure to serve Harry Potter!” She looked at Draco, and when he didn't give her any orders, disappeared with a soft crack.

“She is so cute,” Harry said with a fond smile.

“Yeah, she's adorable,” Draco said distractedly. He was sitting on Harry's bed, with his drawings scattered around him. “Harry, these are really good.”

“Er, thanks,” Harry shrugged self-consciously. “There isn't really much else to do at the Dursleys'.”

“Stop being so modest, you prat. You're good and you know it,” Draco fixed him with a glare. 

“If you say so,” Harry mumbled, then started gathering up the pages. 

“Not that one!” Draco snatched his hand back.

“What's wrong with that one?” Harry asked, perplexed.

“Nothing! I, ah, I wanted to keep it, actually,” Draco said, going pink.

Harry craned his neck to see which one it was. It was one he'd drawn last week, showing Draco and his mother playing chess in front of the fire. It was one of his best so far, and he was rather fond of it himself.

“Sure.”

“Thanks. Come on, we should get going.”

When they walked in to the lounge, they found Mrs Malfoy staring into the fire, the chess board set up before her, and Mr Malfoy flipping through Harry's snake encyclopaedia. Draco took his seat across the board from his mother, leaving Harry to sit awkwardly next to Mr Malfoy. 

“Are you particularly interested in serpents, Harry?” he asked.

“Er, yeah. Draco gave me that for my birthday.”

Draco handed the drawing he was still holding over to his mother, then looked over. “I didn't want him going up to some venomous snake and getting bitten.”

“And do you spend a lot of time with strange snakes?” Mr Malfoy asked.

“Not really. Just, you know, I'll say hello to them if they sound nice,” Harry blushed. 

When Mr Malfoy raised an eyebrow, Draco jumped in again. “Harry's a Parselmouth, Father.”

“Really?” Mr Malfoy looked at Harry speculatively. “Isn't that interesting. Say something.”

Harry fidgeted. “Er, I kind of need to look at a snake to speak it properly.”

Mr Malfoy picked up his cane and held it so that the snake headed handle was in front of Harry's face.

“Right, thanks. Er... _I wish I could devour that infernal cat_.”

“Remarkable,” Mr Malfoy said. He stared at Harry for a few seconds, before standing up. “Draco, I've meetings tomorrow that I must prepare for now.”

Draco jumped to his feet. “You're not coming to King's Cross with us?”

“No, I'll be too busy. Do well in school, and you'll get that broom if you get on the Quidditch team.”

“Yes, Father,” said Draco, and walked over to hug his father. 

Mr Malfoy returned the embrace, then looked at Harry. “I trust you've enjoyed your stay at Malfoy Manor.”

“Yes, thank you.”

Mr Malfoy nodded at Harry, kissed his wife on the cheek and walked out. 

Draco stared after him for a second before returning to his seat. “So what did you just say? I think I recognised half of it.”

Harry nodded. “Ollie's favourite phrase.”

Draco smirked. “Ah.”

Mrs Malfoy patted the seat next to her. “Join us, Harry. Who's Ollie?”

Harry explained about his portrait friend, with Draco butting in with the snake's full name.

Mrs Malfoy nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, I remember that painting. You should cultivate that friendship, Harry. The portraits at Hogwarts can be very helpful if you wish to learn more about the castle and its inhabitants.”

Harry nodded. “Ollie's mostly interested in gossip though.”

“That can have its uses, too. And I imagine Olamide would be eager to tell you all he knows, if you're the only Parselmouth he has contact with.”

Harry nodded again, then settled down to watch them play chess, idly flipping through his book. Finally, Mrs Malfoy looked up at the clock. 

“Off to bed boys. I won't have you sleeping in tomorrow.”

Draco kissed his mother goodnight, then he and Harry did a final check in the room for any forgotten possessions. Harry picked up his book, but Mrs Malfoy hesitated before handing over the drawing to Draco and sighing. 

“She really misses you when you're at Hogwarts, doesn't she?” Harry asked once they were in the hallway.

“Of course she does,” Draco scoffed, leaving Harry in no doubt over how stupid Draco found his question.

It probably was a stupid question, Harry told himself in his room. What parent wouldn't miss their only child when they sent them off to boarding school? Not for the first time, Harry went to sleep feeling bitter over just how much he'd missed out on, living with the Dursleys.

********

  
The next morning after breakfast Harry dragged his trunk down the stairs feeling odd. He knew he could owl Mrs Malfoy if he left anything behind, but he'd found it oddly hard to say goodbye to the room he'd had for the past month. When he got to the foyer he sat on his trunk and waited for the Malfoys to appear. Hedwig and Thoth were sleeping in their cages.

Mrs Malfoy swept down the stairs a few minutes later, and clicked her tongue irritably when she saw Harry alone. “Tilly.”

“Yes Mistress?” Tilly asked after she Apparated in.

“Fetch Draco.” When the elf disappeared, Mrs Malfoy turned to Harry. “Is anything wrong?”

Harry stood up quickly. “No!” When she said nothing, he looked at his feet and continued. “Not really. It's just... I'll miss this place.”

Mrs Malfoy smiled slightly. “You're welcome to stay here next summer. In fact, I doubt Draco would forgive me if you didn't.”

“Thanks, Mrs Malfoy.”

Draco came down the stairs, and a second later Tilly popped back into the foyer and deposited his trunk next to Harry's. 

Mrs Malfoy shrunk both trunks and pocketed them. “Have you got everything?”

When both boys nodded, she led the way down the drive and through the gate, with both boys carrying their owls. Harry turned and took one last look at the Manor before he followed and held onto her proffered arm. 

They Apparated onto one end of platform 9 ¾. “Come along Harry, you don't want someone Apparating on top of you,” Mrs Malfoy said as she gently guided him forward. 

“I thought you had to go through the barrier to get onto the platform,” Harry said.

“That's one way. You can also Apparate here, but you have to be quick, as there's naturally a lot of traffic,” Mrs Malfoy replied.

She stopped on the edge of the crowd next to the Hogwarts Express. She pulled out their trunks and reversed the shrinking spell. Harry and Draco gratefully rested the heavy owl cages on top of them. Mrs Malfoy fussed with Draco's collar. 

“Be good this year, darling. Please don't go chasing after any more possessed professors.”

“That was one time, Mother,” Draco grumbled.

“One time too many, Draco, I don't want any owls about your misbehaviour this year,” she said sharply, then pulled him into a fierce hug. “Good luck with Quidditch try-outs. I love you.”

“Love you too, Mother,” Draco replied. His face was red when she eventually released him, but he looked pleased all the same.

Harry shifted awkwardly, before sticking out his hand. “Thank you for having me, Mrs Malfoy.”

Mrs Malfoy ignored his hand and pulled him into a hug. “It was a pleasure, Harry. And what I said to Draco goes for you, too. Stay safe this year.”

“I'll try,” he grinned back.

She smiled down at them before clearing her throat. “Better get a move on if you want a good compartment.”

They said one last goodbye and boarded the train. Halfway down the carriage they found an empty compartment and entered before a group of Ravenclaws could claim it. They ignored the glares as they got settled in, and were soon joined by Daphne and Pansy. Daphne sat down between the two boys and turned to Harry.

“So what was he like?” she asked breathlessly.

“What was who like? And hello to you, too,” Harry replied.

“Lockhart, of course!” Daphne exclaimed.

Across from them, Pansy grimaced. “She won't shut up about him. I've half a mind to ask Snape for poison when we get to school.”

“You wouldn't hurt him!” Daphne gasped. 

Pansy shrugged. “Him or you - I haven't made up my mind. Perhaps I'll poison both of you, and then myself for good measure.”

Harry and Draco were laughing when Hermione and Neville entered and sat down next to Pansy.

“What's so funny?” Neville asked.

“Pansy's planning to poison Lockhart and Daphne,” Harry replied.

“Pansy! You can't do that!” Hermione admonished.

“Teachers are only to be set on fire, apparently,” muttered Draco, making Harry snort. Luckily Daphne was too busy glaring at Pansy to hear. 

“Besides which, I think he'd be more than capable of detecting a poison you tried to give him,” Hermione was saying. “Have you read his books? I'd be very surprised if there weren't some Dark creatures looking for revenge, he would have considered the possibility of being poisoned.”

“Have _you_ read his books?” Harry retorted. “They sound like a load of bullshit to me.”

“Plus I think Snape would be more than capable of making an undetectable poison,” Pansy added.

“Given how much he wants the Defence position, he probably wouldn't take much convincing, either,” Harry mused.

“Help me ask him then?” Pansy offered. “He's more likely to say yes to you than to me.”

Harry shrugged. “We should probably give Lockhart a chance to prove he's not as much of a wanker as he appears to be, but sure.”

Hermione shook her head. “Slytherins.”

Seeing Pansy beginning to glower at Hermione, Harry hurriedly asked Neville how his summer had gone. The rest of the compartment seemed content to let the subject drop, except for Hermione, who pulled out _Break With a Banshee_ and proceeded to read it for the rest of the trip. 

When the train pulled up at Hogsmeade station they piled out onto the bustling platform. Harry looked around and spotted Hagrid and waved. 

Hagrid waved back. “Alright there, Harry?” A small boy next to him whipped his head around and stared at Harry. 

Resigned to a year of being stared at by new first years, Harry followed as his friends headed towards a line of horseless carriages that would carry the older students to the castle. Harry spent the trip watching the castle grow larger, determined not to ask how the carriages were moving. He didn't want a lecture on _Hogwarts, A History_ , especially when Hermione was still slightly peeved by the earlier talk of poison. 

Hogwarts looked no different from the last time he'd seen it, and Harry had a happy sense of homecoming as he took his place at the Slytherin table between Pansy and Draco. His mood soured slightly as he saw Lockhart smiling toothily from the staff table. His turquoise robes shimmered whenever he waved out at the students. 

Pansy followed Harry's gaze and growled. “Can we poison him now?” she asked Harry. 

“I don't think we'll have to,” Harry murmured. “Look at Snape.”

Beside Lockhart, Snape was looking at the new professor with an expression usually reserved for students who melted their cauldrons. Harry and Pansy were still giggling when McGonagall brought in the Sorting Hat. They eventually stopped when Reed glared down the table at them, and they watched the sorting in silence. Harry found out that the boy who had stared at him at the train station was Colin Creevey. He seemed to be arguing with the hat, and was eventually put into Gryffindor. Harry breathed a sigh of relief, and the rest of the feast went by uneventfully.

“Welcome back everyone,” Gemma said brightly as she made her way down the table. “I have to take care of the first years, but the password is 'Runespoor fangs'.”

The second years left as a group, but Harry and Draco quickly fell behind. 

“Is there a reason you're walking so slowly?” Harry asked.

“Oh, sorry, I was miles away,” Draco replied, and sped up slightly. 

The Slytherin common room was noisy when they eventually arrived, and Harry quickly walked into their dorm room and stopped.

“What the fuck?”

The other boys burst into laughter as Harry stared around the room. The copy of the _Daily Prophet_ photo of Harry and Lockhart was stuck to the wall next to every bed, with an enlarged version next to Harry's bed. As he watched, photo Harry elbowed Lockhart in the side and darted out of frame. 

Harry spun around. Draco was leaning against the doorframe laughing. “You git! This is why you were walking so slowly!”

“Of course,” gasped Draco.

Harry glared up at Lockhart before ripping the poster down. “You guys are all keeping yours up, aren't you.”

“What do you think?” Blaise chuckled.

“Perfect,” Harry muttered, opening his trunk. He carefully pulled out the preserved daisy chain Daphne had given him last year and hung it from one of his bed posts. He could redecorate, too.  


********

  
The next morning Flint came up to Harry at breakfast.

“Potter! We've got Quidditch try outs tomorrow evening at seven, and I want you there. We need to replace Higgs and Shabes, so let your friends know we're looking for a Chaser and a Beater.”

“Sure, see you then,” Harry said. Flint nodded and walked off to talk to Adrian and Miles. 

“Tomorrow, that's soon,” Draco said quietly.

Harry smiled at him encouragingly. “You'll be great, don't worry. Oh, hello Professor.”

Snape stood there with a stack of schedules, which he started handing out. “Mr Potter. Managing to keep out of the paper today, I see.”

As his friends laughed, Harry looked down at his schedule and groaned. “We have double History of Magic first thing tomorrow. How is anyone supposed to stay awake for that?”

“Perhaps by sleeping the night before, instead of wandering around the castle after curfew,” Snape said pointedly before moving down the table. 

“Just go back to sleep during class,” said Draco dismissively. “Listen, we've got a double free this afternoon. Come help me practise for the Quidditch try outs.”

Harry grinned. “Sure.”

Theo looked over. “I'll come too, I was planning on trying out.”

Draco narrowed his eyes. “Which position?”

“Beater.”

“All right then,” Draco nodded.

Theo laughed. “Don't worry, I wouldn't want to be Chaser anyway.”


	5. In Which the Slytherins Have Had Quite Enough of Lockhart, Thank You Very Much

Harry awoke on Friday in a good mood. Both Draco and Theo had gotten onto the Quidditch team the night before, he'd enjoyed the classes he'd had so far, and not even the sight of the remaining newspaper clippings on the walls could bring his mood down. 

But Defence Against the Dark Arts that afternoon did. 

The class was lined up outside the classroom waiting for Lockhart to arrive, listening to Draco raving about the Nimbus 2001s that Mr Malfoy would be buying for the entire Slytherin team. Harry wasn't listening, as he had a perfectly good Nimbus 2000, and looked away to notice that the Creevey boy was staring at him. A group of equally small Gryffindors stood behind him. 

“Er, are you lost?” Harry asked him. 

The boy went bright red, but walked closer. “Hiya, Harry. I'm Colin Creevey. I'm in Gryffindor, although I wanted to be in Slytherin like you, but the hat wouldn't let me.”

Harry had no answer to this, and was uncomfortably aware that his friends were watching the conversation.

Colin produced a camera from his bag. “I've heard all about you, how you defeated You-Know-Who when you were a baby, and I was hoping I could get a photo with you, to prove that I met you. A boy in my dorm told me that if I develop the film in a special potion, the picture will _move_. And then, maybe, you could sign it?”

Harry blinked at the speech, and Draco pushed off the wall he'd been leaning against.

“A signed photo? You want a _signed photo_ from Harry?” Draco looked down his nose at the boy.

“Yes, please!” Colin said eagerly.

“Piss off,” Draco said, his lip curling slightly. By this time there was a small crowd of students watching.

“Draco, shut up. Colin, the answer's no,” Harry said firmly.

“Please, Harry. I'm taking lots of pictures of Hogwarts for my dad, and I know he'd love a signed photo of Harry Potter,” Colin pleaded.

“He's not signing anything for you, you little twerp!” Pansy said.

“What's all this, then? Ah, Harry! Harry, Harry, Harry,” boomed Lockhart. He threw an arm around Harry's shoulders and beamed down at Colin. “How about the both of us, Mr Creevey? And then we'll _both_ sign it for you!”

Colin gave an excited whimper and wasted no time snapping a few pictures.

“All right, everyone, get along to class now,” Lockhart said to the spectators. 

Harry made to follow the class inside, but Lockhart stopped him.

“Just a friendly warning, Harry, that it's not a good look to go handing out signed photos to your fellow students. Makes you look a trifle conceited.”

“I really wasn't –”

“Maybe one day you'll have to carry a supply of pre-signed photos around with you like I do, but I don't think you're quite there yet. A little more well known than the average twelve year old, what with that business with You-Know-Who, but that was years ago and fame's a fleeting thing.”

Harry ducked out of Lockhart's hold to pick up his bag where he'd dropped it on the floor, and stalked into the Defence room without another word. Luckily, Draco had saved him a seat in the back row. He had no desire to sit anywhere near the front of this class. He slumped down into his seat and glared at his desk.

After taking the roll, Lockhart picked up Daphne's copy of _Break With a Banshee_ and pointed at his preening portrait on the cover. “Me. Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, third class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League and five time winner of _Witch Weekly_ 's Most-Charming Smile Award – but I don't talk about that. I didn't get rid of the Bandon banshee by _smiling_ at her!”

Harry exchanged an incredulous look with Draco. In the row in front of them, Theo was muttering to Tracey. 

“I can see that you've all bought the complete collection of my books. Excellent! I thought we'd start the class with a little quiz. Nothing stressful; I just want to know how closely you read my books, how well you remember my exploits!” He handed them all a quiz paper. “Your thirty minutes start now!”

Harry read his quiz and looked up at Lockhart in disbelief. Every single question contained Lockhart's full name. What was worse, Harry actually knew some of the answers from reading the books. In a decidedly bad mood now, Harry answered what he did know, then left nonsense answers for the others. Hopefully Lockhart didn't know much about the Muggle world. 

After half an hour Lockhart collected the tests and scanned them quickly. “Nothing outstanding, although you certainly did better than the Gryffindors... Only one of them did any well at all... Let's see here, yes, full marks to Miss Davis, Mr Nott and Miss Greengrass! Ten points each for Slytherin!”

The entire class looked at Daphne who was blushing happily in the first row. While she certainly wasn't dumb, she didn't usually come out with top marks. Pansy whispered something to her that made her hit Pansy on the shoulder. Lockhart wasn't looking however, as he was too busy lifting a covered cage onto his desk.

“Now then! In my class you will come face to face with some of the most evil and terrifying creatures that roam the earth. But I assure you, no harm can come to you while I'm in the room! Just remain calm; screaming may provoke them.”

The class leaned forward with sincere interest for the first time that lesson. Satisfied he had their undivided attention, Lockhart took hold of the cover and whipped it off the cage. There was a beat of silence and then Theo snorted. 

“Cornish pixies? That's it?”

Harry thought he had a point. The pixies were less than a foot high and a bright blue. They were hovering in their cage, held up by wings similar to a dragonfly's, and pulling faces at the class. 

A flash of annoyance crossed Lockhart's face before he grinned at Theo. “Ah, Mr Nott, don't be so dismissive! These little rascals gave the Gryffindors quite a bit of trouble the other day. But I think you lot could do a bit better, don't you?”

“You're letting them out?” Theo said in disbelief. Beside him, Tracey started shoving her possessions into her bag. Harry nudged Draco, and they started doing the same. 

“Of course, Mr Nott! How else will you learn how to fight them? Now then, let's see what you can do with them!” With that he unlocked the cage and stepped back quickly.

The pixies wasted no time in escaping the cage. They flew around the room and soon most people were cowering under their desks. Four of them grabbed Vince's bag and lifted it above his head as he jumped up trying to get it back. Greg had his jumper pulled over his head and a pixie was hitting him with the blackboard duster as he tried to free his head. The girls in the front row were being bombarded with inkwells, and one pixie pulled Harry's glasses off his face and threw them across the room. 

“Come now, I expected a better show from you than this!” Lockhart called from behind his desk. He raised his wand and shook his sleeves back with a flourish. “ _Peskipiksi Pesternomi!_ ”

Whatever the spell was, it didn't work. One of the pixies grabbed the wand and got into a tug of war over it with another pixie as sparks shot out the end of it. Millicent had an entire bottle of ink dumped down the neck of her uniform and swore loudly. She stood up, grabbed one of her books and started thumping the pixies with it. By the time the bell rang there was a small pile of unconscious pixies littering the front row.

“Can you see my glasses?” Harry asked Draco desperately.

“Yes, stay here.” Draco covered his head with his arms and ran to retrieve the glasses as the rest of the class headed for the door. Harry was putting his now cracked glasses back on when Lockhart stopped by the door.

“Ah, you three look like you know what you're doing. Just pop them back in the cage, then,” he said, and closed the door behind him.

Harry and Draco looked at each other. Millicent was still swinging the heavy book at the pixies surrounding her. 

“Fucking hell,” Draco muttered. “Here. _Occulus reparo_.”

Harry blinked at the cracks disappeared from his vision. “Thanks.”

“You really need to learn that spell, Potter. _Petrificus totalus!_ ” A pixie froze in mid-air next to Draco, before crashing to the floor.

Soon they had all the pixies rounded up in the cage. Some were immobilised from the boys' spells, while some were simply knocked out by Millicent's book. 

“Where's the lock gone?” she asked.

Harry looked around the wrecked classroom. “Dunno. Should we tie it shut?”

“Of course not,” Draco scoffed.

“But then they'll just get out again,” Millicent objected. “Hitting them was fun, but I've got better things to do with my time.”

Draco nodded. “I know, which is why we're putting the cage in his office.”

Five minutes later they had the heavy cage sitting on the desk in the office. Harry looked around the office with distaste. The walls were covered with portraits of Lockhart, all of whom were watching the three students with interest. 

“Should we get his wand back?” Harry whispered. Two pixies still in a body-bind were clutching the wand between them.

“No. Come on, let's get out of here,” Draco replied.

They carefully shut the office door firmly behind them, picked up their bags from the ruined classroom and ran off, giggling at the thought of what the pixies would do once they woke up.

********

  
At dinner Draco was gleefully telling the other second years what they'd done when Snape walked up behind them.

“Potter, Malfoy and Bulstrode, come with me,” he said before striding out of the hall.

Pansy grimaced. “Too bad guys.”

The three of them trudged after Snape, a chorus of commiseration following them out. Snape led them to his office, where he sat behind the desk and gestured to three wooden chairs in front of him. Once they were sitting down, he folded his hands together and stared at them all. 

“You know why you're here.”

Harry and Millicent nodded, but Draco shook his head.

“Really? You don't recall setting a group of Cornish pixies loose in Lockhart's office this afternoon?” Snape raised an eyebrow. 

“We put them all back in the cage, like he asked us to,” Draco said blandly.

“An unlocked cage which also contained Lockhart's wand,” Snape replied.

“Well, those pixies were in a full body-bind, and we thought we might break the wand if we tried to get it back,” Draco said.

“And we couldn't find the lock, sir,” added Harry. 

“I see. Are you aware that Lockhart returned to his office to find most of the furniture in flames?”

Harry couldn't help the smirk that spread across his face.

“Do you find that funny, Mr Potter?”

Harry shrugged. “Well, it's a stone castle, isn't it? Besides, he said in a chapter on fire crabs that he's an expert on dousing fires and repairing any damage caused, sir.”

Snape's lips twitched. “Indeed. Nevertheless, the three of you will have detention tomorrow night.”

“Yes, sir,” they chorused.

“With Lockhart.”

“What? Can't it be with you? You're our Head of House, aren't you in charge of punishing us? We could clean cauldrons!” Harry said desperately.

“Or what about Hagrid?” Draco added. “Maybe the Dark Lord's attacking unicorns again?”

Snape snorted. “Unfortunately for you, Lockhart has requested to take the detention himself. As the injured party, I can hardly deny him.”

“But he's the one who let the pixies loose and then left it up to us to catch them again!” Draco sulked.

“And he told us he'd done the same thing with at least one other class,” Millicent said.

“Yes, but unfortunately for you, Hogwarts is not in the habit of giving detentions to idiotic professors,” Snape replied. “You will report to Lockhart's office at eight o'clock tomorrow night.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Very well. Oh, and Mr Potter, give this to Flint when you see him,” Snape said, and handed over a piece of parchment. “Good night.”

Out in the corridor Millicent kicked the ground angrily. “Detention with that dickhead! What a nightmare.”

“It could be worse,” Draco said. “We didn't lose any house points. And we could have separate detentions with him.”

Millicent shuddered. “Ugh. Good point.”

When they got back to the common room Harry found Flint sitting with some friends on the couches. 

“Hi, Flint. Snape asked me to give you this,” Harry said and handed over the parchment.

Flint scanned it quickly. “Great. Training tomorrow straight after breakfast, tell Malfoy and Nott.”

Harry didn't see either of them in the common room, so wandered into the dorm. Theo was reading on his bed. Harry noted with amusement that the clipping of himself and Lockhart had been taken down from beside Theo's bed.

“We've got Quidditch practice tomorrow after breakfast,” Harry told him, getting changed into his pyjamas.

“Thanks,” Theo said, not looking up from his book. 

Harry shrugged and walked over to Draco's bed, which had the curtains drawn. “Draco?”

One of the curtains was yanked back. “I heard. Want to join me?”

Draco was sitting against his pillows, and closed the curtain again when Harry sat at the foot of the bed. He was already in his pyjamas, and had sheets of parchment scattered on the bed.

“What's all this?” Harry asked. 

Draco let out a frustrated sigh. “I'm trying to write down the Parseltongue I know, since it's hard to just remember it all. I've been writing it down phonetically, I guess you could say, but I think I need to make up some new letters, because some of the sounds don't really fit any of ours.”

Harry's eyebrows shot up. “Wow. That's... Jesus, Draco. I'm glad it's you and not me. Sounds way too complicated.”

Draco threw down his quill. “It probably is. Maybe I'll just have to memorise it better. How do you do it?”

Harry cocked his head. “Well, if I'm looking at a snake, I don't need to think about it. I didn't even realise I wasn't speaking English until you pointed it out last year. But if I'm talking to you, I sort of think of what I want to say, then imagine I'm talking to a snake.”

Draco frowned. “Maybe you're right, maybe it _can't_ be taught.”

“No, I wouldn't say that. You've already picked up some things. Why don't you have a look in the library and see if there are any books on creating a writing system?”

Draco considered this. “That could work. Thanks. Want to teach me something new?”

“Sure. It's not like we got homework last lesson.”

********

  
Breakfast the next day found the Slytherin team huddled at one end of the long table, with Mr Malfoy's new brooms in a pile next to them. There were a few older students scattered around the hall, mostly Ravenclaws, who were clearly up early to study. The only other times Harry had seen the Great Hall so quiet were when he'd been out exploring under his Invisibility Cloak after curfew.

Harry stifled a yawn, making Gemma giggle. He glared at her over his tea. “How are you always this cheery?”

“Being able to hit Bludgers at people is a great stress release,” she said breezily.

“It'd have to be, sharing Prefect duty with Hawthorn,” Adrian said.

Gemma made a face. “Don't remind me of him, please. It's far too early to think about him.”

“How's Terence doing?” Harry asked her. 

Gemma brightened again at the mention of her boyfriend. “Great, actually. He's got an internship with the _Prophet_ 's sports section. He's visiting me on the first Hogsmeade weekend.”

“Say hello for me,” Harry said. 

“Will do,” Gemma said cheerfully before turning to talk to Theo about Beaters' bats.

Harry chatted with Draco and Adrian as they finished breakfast. Finally, Flint shut the strategy book he'd been going through with Miles and stood up.

“Grab your new brooms and let's go.”

Harry grabbed one, feeling a slight pang of guilt over abandoning his old broom so easily. Still, the new model was a better flier, and any advantage helped. 

When they got to the pitch they found the Gryffindor team already in the air. 

“I thought you said you'd booked the pitch, Flint,” Adrian muttered as some of the Gryffindors flew down towards them.

The Gryffindor captain landed and strode towards them. “Flint! This is our practise time! We got up specially! You can clear off now!”

Flint stood his ground. “Plenty of room for all of us, Wood.”

“But I booked the pitch! I booked it!” Wood yelled. Despite the fact that he looked close to frothing at the mouth, Harry couldn't help admiring his accent. 

“Ah, but I've got a specially signed note here from Professor Snape. _I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practise today on the Quidditch pitch owing to the need to train their new players_.”

“You've got new players? Who?” Wood demanded. The rest of his team landed behind him. 

Flint gestured to Draco and Theo. “So if you'd kindly fuck off now...”

“Aren't you Lucius Malfoy's son?” one of the Weasley twins asked Draco.

“Funny you should mention Draco's father. Let me show you the generous gift he's made to the Slytherin team,” Flint smirked and held out his broom. Harry looked around and held his out too when he saw the others copying Flint.

The other twin snorted. “A Malfoy buying his way onto the team. How original.”

“His dad bought the brooms _after_ he got on the team, moron!” Harry burst out. 

There was a beat of silence as the entire Gryffindor team turned to look at Harry. It was broken by Gemma.

“You do realise that we could all practise on the pitch at the same time, yes? But feel free to continue your little pissing contest. Except for you, Theo. You've got big shoes to fill, and I won't be paired with a dud of a Beater. Grab a Bludger and come with me.” 

As Theo scrambled after Gemma, the two captains looked at each other, and grudgingly agreed to share the pitch. Practise ended up going smoothly for the most part. Flint kept the Slytherins doing drills designed to get Draco and Theo to fit into the team. They even attempted a game against the Gryffindors, but gave up when Flint and Wood started yelling at each other again. The rest of the teams simply left them to it and trooped off to the changing rooms. 

“Those two need to just shag already,” grumbled Miles.

“Thanks for that image,” Adrian said. 

“I don't know, Wood's pretty hot,” Gemma replied. She looked up in the following silence. “Ugh. I hate being the only girl here sometimes.”

“He has a nice accent,” Harry blurted, then blushed. 

Gemma smiled. “He does, doesn't he...”

They jumped a little when Draco left abruptly, slamming the door on his way out. 

“What's wrong with him?” Gemma asked Harry. 

Harry shrugged. “Must've remembered we have detention with Lockhart tonight.”

Theo snorted and shook his head, as Gemma shifted into Prefect mode and started lecturing Harry.

********

  
At quarter to eight that night Harry decided he could put if off no longer and went to collect the others for their detention. They walked up to Lockhart's office in sullen silence.

“Ah, there you are. Come in, come in,” Lockhart said, opening the door. “You'll think twice before you mess with pixies now, won't you?”

“We thought you'd be back quick enough to lock the cage,” Draco said innocently.

“Unforeseen hold up,” Lockhart muttered. “Now then! Mr Malfoy, Miss Bulstrode, you can start scrubbing the scorch marks off the walls over there. As for you, Mr Potter, you can help me address my fan mail.”

“Shouldn't I help them clean the walls, too?” Harry asked.

“Nonsense! From what I saw the other afternoon you're obviously keen to get into the fame game, and this is a fine place to start!”

And so began one the most boring evenings of Harry's life. He ignored Lockhart's pronouncements about fame as best he could, thinking longingly of the detention he and Draco had had with Snape last year when they cleaned cauldrons. As he watched the clock tick forward far too slowly, he even began to think that he'd rather be in the Forbidden Forest facing Voldemort again. 

The candles were nearly burnt out when Harry was jolted out of his bored stupor. Over Lockhart's prattling and the scrubbing of Draco and Millicent, was a cold, hateful voice. 

“ _Come... Come to me... Let me rip you... Let me tear you... Let me kill you..._ ”

“What?” Harry jumped and spilt ink on the letter in front of him.

“I know! Six solid months at the top of the best-seller list! Broke all records!” Lockhart said.

“What? No, not that,” Harry said impatiently. “Can't you hear that?”

“Hear what, Harry?” Draco asked.

“That voice...” Harry looked around the office, half expecting to see someone else standing there.

Lockhart looked at the others, then back at Harry. “There's no one here... Well, look at the time! I've kept you too long, you're tired I expect. Fame does have its drawbacks, you know. Off to bed with you, then.”

Out in the corridor they set off quickly for the dungeons. 

“You guys didn't hear anything?” Harry asked quietly.

“Just Lockhart droning on about his fans,” Millicent said. 

“Which is enough to make anyone start hearing things,” Draco added. 

“I guess you're right,” Harry said, hoping they were.


	6. In Which Harry Learns a Useful Skill but has a Miserable Halloween

After breakfast on Sunday, Harry decided he'd have another go at learning to pick locks, just in case he needed to next summer. He retrieved the instructions and pins from his trunk and stared at them in frustration. He'd bent the pins horribly and doubted they'd be any good. 

He walked out to the common room and found Tracey studying with Theo. 

“Tracey, have you seen Daphne?”

Tracey looked up with a little irritation. “She's in the dorm, why?”

“I wanted to borrow some hair pins. To practise picking locks without magic,” he elaborated when she looked at him oddly.

“Oh! I'll take you, if you let me watch,” she said, getting up. “I'll be back later, Theo.”

Tracey led Harry to the corridor that housed the girls' dormitories. He'd never been down here before, and got some strange looks from a group of older girls they passed. 

“Wait here,” Tracey told him, before ducking inside the door marked _Second Years_. “All clear!” she called a second later. 

Harry entered a little cautiously. He'd never been in a girl's bedroom before, and he wasn't sure what he was expecting. To his surprise, he found the room to be pretty much the same as the boys' dorm, except with only four beds. And a little better smelling, if he was honest.

“Harry! What are you doing in here?” Daphne squealed from her bed. 

Beside her, Pansy rolled her eyes. “He's come to ravish you, obviously.”

“Er, I wanted to borrow some hairpins from you, actually. If you have anything that looks like this?” Harry showed her his photocopied instructions.

Daphne studied it. “Give me a second.”

She opened a box on her bedside table and rummaged through it, before dumping a mess of pins in his hands. 

“Thanks.”

“You can practise on my trunk, if you like,” Tracey said. 

Harry knelt down in front of it, smoothing the instructions out on the floor beside him. 

“How'd you get in here, anyway?” Pansy asked.

“What do you mean?” Harry asked.

“Well, when Blaise tried to get in last year he got thrown out before he took two steps down the corridor,” Pansy giggled.

Harry snorted. “I'd forgotten about that. He complained for a week.”

Tracey looked up from studying Harry's work. “Maybe the protective spell reads intentions? Harry's not up to mischief, so it let him in.”

“I'd hardly call learning how to pick locks an innocent activity,” Pansy drawled.

“But it's a hell of a lot more innocent than what Blaise wanted to do,” Harry replied, causing them all to laugh. 

“Why do you need to pick locks anyway? What's wrong with _alohomora_?” Millicent asked, looking up from brushing her cat.

“Harry's relatives locked up his owl over the summer,” Daphne said with a little shudder.

“How come?”

“They don't like me very much. Or magic,” Harry said evasively. “So I want to be able to unlock Hedwig's cage if they try it again.”

“That's barbaric,” Millicent growled.

“Yeah, well, they're not the nicest family,” Harry grumbled, pulling a pin out to look at it closely.

“Try pressing it down more firmly,” Tracey suggested.

Harry stuck the pin in again and did as she said. “Aha!”

He traded grins with her as the lock fell open.

“Great. Now do it again,” Tracey said, and re-locked it.

Half an hour later Harry made his way back to his own dorm. Tracey had insisted on him unlocking each girl's trunk as well as the dorm door before she declared him free to go. She'd been demanding, but Harry had to admit that she'd been very helpful. 

“Where have you been?” Draco demanded when he walked back in.

“Girls' dorm,” Harry said. He put the pins Daphne had given him into his biscuit tin, stashing the lot in his trunk.

“Doing what, exactly?” Draco demanded, sitting up abruptly.

“How'd you get in?” Blaise asked at the same time.

“Learning to pick locks. And I walked, Blaise. Apparently it's easy enough for boys who aren't there to snog the girls.”

Blaise grumbled and turned back to his magazine.

Draco got off his bed and sat down on Harry's. “Why did you have to do it in the girls' room?”

“Because I needed to borrow some hairpins off Daphne. If that's okay with you?” Harry asked sarcastically.

Draco nodded. “Fine.”

“Good. Want to visit Ollie?” Harry didn't know what Draco's problem was this morning, but he figured speaking Parseltongue to Ollie might cheer him up.

“I guess,” Draco said, getting up. Harry rolled his eyes and followed him out. 

As usual, they found Ollie sunning himself on his rock. He opened one eye lazily when he heard them approaching. “ _So you haven't forgotten about me, Harry_ ,” he hissed. 

“ _We left for the summer. But now we're back_ ,” Harry said apologetically.

“ _Hello, Olamide_ ,” Draco said nervously.

Ollie lifted his head in interest. “ _You can speak Parseltongue, Draco_?”

“ _A small bit_ ,” Draco said.

Harry grinned “ _I've started teaching him, but it's hard. I don't really think about what I'm saying, and there's no written language_.”

Ollie slithered a bit closer to them. “ _Yes, that would be difficult. It would help if you knew another Parselmouth, but the last one I came across was decades ago. Still, you should keep trying, Draco_.”

Draco nodded. “ _Yes. I will learn big skill_.”

“ _Not just that, although you're right, it is a useful talent. I meant more for my own amusement. It does get lonely sometimes, having no one to talk to_.”

Ollie had said that too fast for Draco, so Harry had to translate. Draco nodded. “ _Of course_.”

“ _So there aren't any other snake portraits you can talk to?_ ” Harry asked.

Ollie flopped back onto his rock. If he'd had lips, Harry would have sworn he was pouting. “ _There is an Egyptian cobra in the corridor near the Transfiguration classroom, but I don't like her much_.”

“ _Why not? Wouldn't she be better than no one?_ ”

“ _If she's in a good mood. But Egyptian cobras tend to look down on East African green mambas. They think they're better than us, just because they have a stronger venom_.”

“ _Well, next time I'm up there, I'll tell her how much scarier you are_ ,” Harry said.

“ _Thank you, Harry. That would be helpful_ ,” Ollie replied, curling back up.

********

  
On Halloween morning Harry woke up to the smell of baking. He smiled as his stomach grumbled, before he realised what the day meant. Eleven years ago his parents had been murdered. He rolled over and stared out the window at the fish until his friends started getting up. Harry silently pulled on jeans and a black hoodie as they joked amongst themselves.

“You alright?” Draco asked, meeting his eyes in the mirror.

“Yes,” Harry said shortly.

“Halloween today. Big feast tonight,” Vince said happily to Greg.

“Whoop de fucking do,” Harry muttered. 

“You're not hungry?” Vince asked.

“My parents died on Halloween, so no, not really.”

“Good one, Crabbe,” Blaise said quietly. “Let's get to breakfast.”

After Blaise had led Vince and Greg out of the room, Draco came over.

“You were fine last Halloween,” he said.

Harry gave a tight smile. “Last Halloween, I didn't know when they'd died.”

Draco gave Harry a hug. “Come and have some tea, at least.”

“Okay,” Harry agreed.

“I know how you feel. Sort of,” Theo said quietly.

“Yeah?” Harry looked at him.

“My mother died when I was a baby, too. From having me, actually,” Theo said. “My father doesn't like to talk about her much.”

“I'm sorry,” Harry said. 

“Yeah, well, he's a bit of a prick,” Theo said sourly.

When they reached the Great Hall, they found it decorated with the usual giant pumpkins, with live bats sleeping under the rafters. Students were noisier than usual, looking forward to the feast to come. Harry sat quietly, sipping his tea as he waited for the others to finish eating. 

“You coming Draco?” he asked as they all stood up.

“I'll be down in a bit,” Draco replied. Harry shrugged and followed the others back to the dungeons. 

Back in the dorm, Harry pulled out the photo album Hagrid had given him the year before, and sat on his bed with the curtains drawn as he slowly flipped through it. He could hear Blaise telling the others about the latest girl he was seeing. Apparently they'd almost gotten caught snogging by Filch the night before. Harry didn't take much notice when the laughter suddenly died, figuring the others must have gone out into the common room. 

“Harry?” Draco called.

“Not now, Draco,” he replied.

He wasn't surprised when Draco ignored him and pulled the curtain back. He was, however, surprised to see Snape standing next to him. 

“Professor,” he said, snapping the album shut. 

“Mr Potter. Come with me,” Snape said. As he walked out, he shot a look at Blaise. “Try to keep your romantic activities confined to the common room after curfew, Mr Zabini.”

“Yes, sir,” Blaise said, trying to suppress a smirk.

Harry followed Snape, wondering what he wanted. He hadn't done anything since leaving the pixies in Lockhart's office. Well, not unless you counted exploring the castle after curfew under his Cloak with Draco. But it couldn't be that, as Snape had practically given him permission to do that, provided he didn't get caught. 

Snape didn't lead him to his office, but the Potions classroom, closing the door behind them. Harry stood next to a desk uncertainly.

“You're not in trouble for once, Mr Potter,” Snape said drily. 

“I'm not? I mean, good,” Harry said in confusion.

Snape snorted and walked further into the room. “I simply thought you might want to help me brewing some potions for the infirmary. Madam Pomfrey informs me that her stock of Pepperup Potion is getting low, and flu season is upon us.”

“And you wanted me to help?” Harry asked.

Snape nodded. “I realise it is beyond anything you have brewed so far, being assigned to third years, but I thought your skills might benefit from the challenge. In addition, having an extra set of hands will free up my own time.”

Harry nodded. “Alright. What do you want me to do?”

Snape flicked his wand at the blackboard, causing the instructions to appear. “Fetch the ingredients.”

When Harry had collected everything, he found Snape had set up two large cauldrons on the front bench. “Can you tell me why this potion requires an iron cauldron?”

Harry looked at the ingredients. “Er... The salamander scales and peppercorn together can melt weaker metal at high temperatures?”

“Precisely.”

They spent the morning brewing, with Snape asking Harry a question about most steps. Finally, they had two cauldrons simmering with nearly completed potions.

“Wash the used equipment,” Snape said.

“Yes, sir.”

When Harry finished at the sink, he found Snape sitting at his desk, which had been cleared of its usual assortment of books and potions paraphernalia. Instead there were two bowls of pumpkin soup, a plate of crusty bread, and a pitcher of apple cider.

“I'm not very hungry, sir,” Harry said at once.

Snape just poured a goblet of cider and pushed it across the table. “Eat, Mr Potter. You'll need a clear head to bottle the Pepperup.”

Harry sat down and picked up his spoon. For a few minutes they ate in silence.

“Why this year?” Snape suddenly asked.

“Pardon?”

“Last Halloween you were more concerned with saving Miss Granger from Mr Weasley and a troll. What changed?”

Harry stared down at his soup. “Last year I didn't know. That it happened on Halloween, I mean.”

“Your aunt never told you?” 

“No, sir. Hermione did. She, er, she researched me in the library, actually,” Harry said, chancing a look at Snape. When he caught his eye, Snape looked away at the fireplace.

“So that's why you came to me at Christmas time,” he said quietly.

“Yes, sir. When I told Hermione that you'd told me a bit about my mum, she borrowed every book that mentioned both me and Voldemort. It was little creepy, to be honest.”

A muscle in Snape's jaw twitched at the name. “What was creepy?”

“Learning about my family from library books,” Harry said, then looked down. “I much preferred hearing about Mum from you.”

There was an indrawn breath. “Harry –”

“Sorry, sir. I understand you don't like talking about her,” Harry said quickly. 

Snape took a long drink before speaking again. “Boxing Day.”

“Sir?”

Snape finally looked at him again. “If you're staying at Hogwarts over the Christmas break, I will be amenable to a visit on Boxing Day.”

Harry stared at him in surprise. “That'd be great. Thank you, sir.”

Snape nodded before rising from his seat. “Very well. The potions will be ready in a minute.”

To Harry's delight, his potion had turned out perfectly, and he packed up in a much better mood. He paused as he put his hand on the doorknob. “Sir? Could I help with your brewing another time?”

Snape raised an eyebrow. “You're volunteering for extra work?”

Harry shrugged. “It's good for taking my mind off things for a while. I can't just go flying all the time, you know.”

“Indeed. As long as you don't fall behind in your homework, I see no reason why not. You may ask me during Wednesday Potions classes if I've anything to make for Madam Pomfrey.”

“Thank you, Professor.”

“Oh, and Mr Potter. You can come to my office if something is troubling you. That is one of the purposes of a Head of House.”

Harry gave a small smile. “Yes sir.”

Harry walked back through the dungeons thinking of what he'd ask Snape about his mother. “Phineas Nigellus,” he said at the entrance. He didn't see Draco in the common room with the other second years, so made his way to the dorm. It was quiet, but the curtains on Draco's bed were closed.

“Draco?”

The curtain was pulled back and Draco looked up at him. 

“Budge over,” Harry said before climbing in. Draco pulled the curtain shut again and they sat in silence for a few minutes. “Thanks for earlier.”

“I just didn't want you being a moody prat,” Draco muttered, going pink.

Harry bumped him with his shoulder. “Git. Just admit you did something sweet.”

“I'll admit no such thing.”

Harry laughed. “Fine. Accept my thanks for your completely selfish act.”

“Sure,” said Draco. There was another silence, then, “What did Snape say anyway?”

“He got me to brew Pepperup Potion with him.”

“Really? But isn't that a third year potion?”

“Yeah. But it was pretty easy since I had the Potions master all to myself.”

“I guess it would be.”

Harry paused, then laid his head on Draco's shoulder. “We had lunch while we were waiting for the potion to finish. And he... He said I can go talk to him again on Boxing Day. About Mum.”

Draco had stiffened a bit when Harry leaned on him, but relaxed slowly. “That's good.”

“Mmm hmm.”

********

  
Harry awoke to find one side of his body cold and his glasses missing. He was curled around something warm, and he instinctively snuggled closer as he shivered.

“You're finally awake,” came Draco's sleepy drawl.

“Huh?” Harry pulled away from what was obviously Draco.

“No, don't, I'm cold,” Draco said, and tightened his hold.

Harry pulled back. “We'll have missed the feast.”

“Forgot about that.”

They sat up, and Draco handed back Harry's glasses. He looked over and giggled. “Your hair's all messed up.”

Draco ran a hand through his hair and glared. “Come on, let's go.”

They straightened their clothes and walked through the empty common room. The school was eerily quiet as they made their way to the Great Hall, when Harry stopped suddenly.

“Can you hear that?” he hissed.

“Hear what?”

“ _Soo hungry... For so long_ ,” he heard.

“That!” Harry cocked his head to the side.

“ _Time to kill_...”

Harry looked at the ceiling in confusion. It sounded like it was heading up somehow. He spun around and dashed up the stairs. He couldn't hear anything in the Entrance Hall as there was too much noise coming from the Great Hall. He swore and went up the marble staircase. 

“ _I smell blood!_ ” 

“It's going to kill someone!” Harry shouted and ran up yet more stairs. He burst onto the second floor and ran down the corridor. 

Finally he came to a stop and tried to listen over his breathing and Draco's footsteps. “Shh!”

They stood there panting. “There's nothing here,” said Draco finally. 

“But I heard...”

Draco elbowed him and pointed down the corridor. “What's that?”

They walked forward slowly. There was something shining on the wall at the end of the corridor, reflected from a puddle on the floor. Coming closer, they saw there was water leaking out from a door, bouncing torchlight back onto the walls. There was something written in large letters. 

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.

“What is that underneath it?” Draco whispered.

They splashed through the puddle until the shadowy figure came into view. It was Mrs Norris, her stiff body hanging from a torch holder.

“Holy shit,” Draco said.

“Uh huh,” Harry replied. 

They stared in silence, before Draco shook his head.

“Come on, we need to leave.”

“Shouldn't we try to help her?” Harry whispered.

“No. We need to leave now.” Draco tugged Harry's arm impatiently. “Now, Potter, now!”

Harry blinked and turned away from the wall, just as the sound of excited voices came echoing towards them. Before they could move, a crowd of students came around the corner. When they saw the scene they came to an abrupt stop. 

The silence was broken by Filch shouting. “Get to bed, you lot! What's going on?”

He burst through the students and stopped when he saw Mrs Norris. His eyes popped wide open and he pointed at Harry and Draco. “You! You killed my cat! I'll kill you! _Murderers!_ ”

He lurched forward with outstretched arms, when there came a shout. 

“ _Argus!_ ” Dumbledore strode through the crowd, with a trail of teachers behind him. He moved around the students to gently lift Mrs Norris from the wall. “Come with me, Argus. Mr Potter, Mr Malfoy.”

Lockhart popped forward. “My office is closest, Headmaster.”

“Thank you, Gilderoy,” Dumbledore said and led them through. Harry caught sight of Hermione's pale face as they went past. They were followed by Lockhart, Snape and McGonagall. When they entered the dark office, Harry caught sight of a few of Lockhart's portraits ducking out of frame, with their hair in curlers. 

The real Lockhart lit the candles on his desk as Dumbledore placed the rigid cat down on it. He and McGonagall leaned close as they inspected the cat. Harry shuffled closer to Draco as they stood nervously, with Snape standing close behind them and Filch sobbing in a chair. Lockhart was bragging about how he could have saved the cat if he'd been there in time. Harry tuned him out and watched as Dumbledore and McGonagall completed their inspection. 

“She's not dead, Argus,” Dumbledore finally said, facing the janitor, making Lockhart snap his mouth shut.

“Not dead? Why's she all stiff then?” Filch asked. 

“She has been Petrified. But how, I cannot say,” Dumbledore said softly.

“Ask them!” Filch pointed to Harry and Draco.

“No second year could have done this. It would require advanced knowledge of Dark magic to do such a thing,” Dumbledore said firmly.

“They did it! They were there!” Filch cried.

“We didn't do anything!” Harry and Draco said in unison.

“Then why were you there?” McGonagall asked. “Why weren't you at the feast with everyone else?”

“We fell asleep,” Draco said.

“You fell asleep,” repeated McGonagall.

“Yes! And then when we woke up we realised we were missing the feast, so we went to see if we could still make it,” Harry said.

“And you decided the quickest way from the dungeons to the Great Hall was via the second floor?” McGonagall asked sceptically.

“No. We got to the Entrance Hall and saw the feast was nearly finished, so we decided to go up to the Astronomy Tower for a bit, and get food from the kitchens later,” Draco explained. Harry quickly nodded.

McGonagall gave them a disbelieving look but didn't say anything, merely looked over their heads at Snape and then at Dumbledore.

“They couldn't have done it, Minerva,” he said quietly. At Filch's angry sputtering he held up a hand and continued. “We will be able to cure her in time, Argus. Professor Sprout has some Mandrakes on hand. Once they're matured, they will be used to create a potion that can cure Mrs Norris.”

“I'll make it, I've done it a hundred times, I could brew a Mandrake Restorative Draught in my sleep,” Lockhart announced.

“Excuse me, but I believe _I_ am the Potions master at this school,” Snape said venomously. Lockhart gulped slightly as Snape turned to Dumbledore. “If there's nothing further, I'd like to escort my students back to the dungeons.”

Dumbledore gazed at Harry and Draco before nodding. “Of course, Severus. Argus, come and have a drink in the staffroom...”

Snape swept out of the classroom into the now thankfully empty corridor, leaving Harry and Draco to jog to keep up with him. Once again, he led them to his office and left them standing before his desk as he sat down and surveyed them.

“So.”

Harry shifted nervously and glanced at Draco, who raised his eyebrows and nodded slightly at Snape.

“I'm waiting.”

Harry took a deep breath. “We really did fall asleep, Professor. And we did intend to go to the feast.”

“But?”

“But when we got to the Entrance Hall, I heard something. Some _one_. They were saying they were hungry, that they wanted to kill, and that they could smell blood. It sounded like it was above us, so we ran up the stairs, and then we found... What we found.”

Snape gazed at him intently before looking at Draco. “And did you hear this voice as well?”

Draco shook his head. “But he's heard it before.” Harry glared at him.

“Is this true Mr Potter?”

Harry sighed. “When we had detention with Lockhart, I heard it just before he dismissed us. But no one else heard it, so Draco and Millicent assumed it must have been me imagining things.”

Snape frowned. “Why did you not mention this earlier?”

“Because it makes me sound crazy!”

“It doesn't change things,” Draco added. “Either way, we ended up stumbling across a Petrified cat before being found by the entire school.”

Snape pursed his lips. “And neither of you saw anyone suspicious?”

“We didn't see anyone at all until half the school arrived,” Harry said at once.

Snape nodded and got up from his desk. “Your arm, Mr Potter.”

Harry held out his arm in silence. Snape took hold of his wrist and checked his pulse before releasing it. “Follow my finger without blinking,” he ordered. Harry watched as Snape moved his finger from side to side in front of his face. 

Finally, Snape seemed satisfied, and returned to his seat. “You seem perfectly fine to me. If I had to hazard a guess, I'd say that the... Emotional stress of the day has simply exhausted you. I suggest the both of you go straight to bed, and if anyone asks, stick to your story about the Astronomy Tower.”

Harry stared at him. “You're not going to tell anyone I've been hearing things?”

“I have not yet made up my mind. But in any case, it is not something the student body should be aware of,” Snape replied.


	7. In Which Draco Enjoys Notoriety and Harry Spends an Eventful Night in the Infirmary

The next morning Harry woke up and seriously considered staying in bed all day. When he and Draco had returned from Snape's office the night before, the entire common room had fallen silent at their entrance. Harry didn't like the looks they got from some of the older students, and they'd quickly retreated to their dorm. The other boys had been waiting for them, but had thankfully seemed to believe Draco's story about heading to the Astronomy Tower. 

With a sigh Harry rolled out of bed and started getting dressed. He mustn't have been as quiet as he'd thought, because Draco immediately emerged from his own bed fully dressed.

“Morning,” said Harry quietly. 

“Morning,” Draco replied. He waited silently for Harry to finish getting ready, before they set off for breakfast.

“I was thinking of seeing Hagrid after breakfast, you want to come?” Harry asked. 

“As long as we talk to Hermione,” Draco said at once.

“Okay, sure. Any particular reason you need her so badly?”

“Who better to ask about the Chamber of Secrets than the girl who's practically memorised _Hogwarts, A History?_ ”

The Great Hall was mostly empty when they arrived, so when they saw Hermione reading at the Gryffindor table, they joined her. She looked up, startled.

“You shouldn't be here, the rest of the house will be down soon,” she said.

“We won't stay long then,” Draco said. 

“I have a lot of reading to do, I only left my room for something to eat,” she said.

“Hermione, don't make us sneak into your dorm,” Draco warned.

“You couldn't. We do change our passwords, you know, and boys aren't allowed in the girls' dorms,” she said at once.

Harry shrugged. “I've got my dad's Cloak, and we're not supposed to get into the Slytherin girls' dorms either, but I did that a few weeks ago.”

Hermione looked at him curiously. “Oh, alright then. But not for long.”

“Everyone's going to think we did it,” Harry said as he pulled a cup of tea towards him. 

“Most of Gryffindor does,” Hermione agreed quietly.

“Typical,” Draco snorted. 

Hermione looked at him. “You know what they're like about Neville and I being friends with you. How do you think they're going to react when two Slytherins are found next to a Petrified cat?”

“Brilliant,” muttered Harry. “It'll be the whole school, you just wait.”

Draco shrugged. “Well, the school's full of morons then. Have you heard of this Chamber before, Hermione?”

She pursed her lips. “I know I read about it in _Hogwarts, A History_ , but I can't remember exactly how the legend goes.”

“So get your book then,” Harry said.

“I left it at home,” she pouted, “and all the copies in the library are already out.”

“Bloody Ravenclaws,” Draco muttered.

“Yes, well, all it means is that I can't help you,” Hermione said. 

“Get your parents to send you your book,” Harry suggested. “You could borrow Hedwig if you want.”

Hermione finally smiled. “That's a great idea, thanks, Harry. I'll see you later!”

They watched as she ran out of the hall. “Remind me to never get between her and a book,” Draco said.

“Right there with you,” Harry laughed and picked up a piece of toast.

“Oi! This is our table! Bugger off!”

They looked up in surprise, having forgotten where they were sitting. A group of older Gryffindors were glaring at them. 

“I don't think we will,” Draco smirked. “Now run along, before we have you Petrified.”

The Gryffindors' glares intensified, but they moved down the table. Draco sat back in satisfaction. “I didn't think that would actually work. I'm going to have so much fun with this.”

Harry rolled his eyes and watched the Gryffindors huddled together at the far end of the table. “What will you do if the real heir gets caught?”

Draco shrugged. “Ask if I can take the credit? I like the idea of the school being afraid of us. Think how easy Quidditch will be if our opponents are too scared to come near us!”

********

  
A few days later Hermione was acting distantly during Potions, and the other Gryffindors seemed even more antagonistic towards the Slytherins than usual.

“What's going on?” Harry asked Neville as they fetched their ingredients.

Neville looked at him nervously. “I think you should ask Hermione. Sorry.”

This proved impossible to do during class, given that they were in the front row under Snape's sharp gaze and Hermione was ignoring them in any case. As soon as the bell rang, Draco leant over and grabbed Hermione's bag. 

“Hey!”

“It's a lovely day, come have lunch with us outside,” said Draco as he walked out the door. 

Hermione glared at his back before turning to Harry in mute appeal. He raised his eyebrows unhelpfully and followed Draco.

They were in the kitchen corridor before Hermione caught up to them.

“You two are the absolute _worst_ ,” she said angrily.

Draco gave her a withering glance. “But we're all you have. Unless, of course, you want to spend your days gossiping with Brown and Patil about boys.”

Hermione narrowed her eyes and huffed, but didn't say anything. Draco smirked and walked into the kitchen, leaving them alone in the corridor. 

“So what's wrong?” Harry asked.

Hermione sighed. “Wait until Draco comes back.”

A few minutes later they were sheltered behind a rock overlooking the lake. Draco was busy pulling a picnic large enough for ten people out of a sack from the kitchen. Harry looked at Hermione expectantly.

Hermione sighed. “I was meaning to come to talk to you both, after class.”

“Yes, that's the exact impression I got when you ignored us for two hours,” Draco said sarcastically.

“I didn't – Yes, okay, I'll pay that. But you don't understand what it's been like in Gryffindor lately.”

“Obnoxiously red and full of Weasleys?” Draco asked.

“That's nothing new,” muttered Harry, grinning.

“Are you two done?” Hermione glared at them. “As I was trying to say, I haven't had any luck finding mention of the Chamber of Secrets in the library, and _Hogwarts, A History_ doesn't mention much, so earlier this week, I asked Professor Binns about it.”

“What did he say?” Harry asked, gnawing on a chicken leg. 

“There's a legend that Salazar Slytherin built a chamber in Hogwarts, which the other three founders had no knowledge about. He'd left the school after a disagreement about letting in Muggle-born students, and supposedly left a monster in the chamber, which would purge the school of Muggle-borns.”

“And what does this have to do with us?” Draco asked.

“Because the monster is said to be controllable only by the heir of Slytherin,” Hermione said quietly.

“And now everyone thinks it must be one of us,” Harry guessed, gesturing between him and Draco. 

Hermione took a sip of pumpkin juice and nodded. “And of course the story's spread all through Gryffindor, probably the whole school by now. Some of the other Gryffindors have been more vocal than usual about their opinions on Neville and I being friends with you.”

Harry stared at her. “I don't understand how you're even in that house, they all sound like idiots. I'm so glad the hat decided to put me in Slytherin.”

Draco waved a hand impatiently. “Gryffindors being idiots isn't anything we didn't already know. But this news is terrible!”

“Yeah, not really looking forward to everyone thinking I'm the heir of Slytherin,” Harry muttered.

“No, it's not that. It's that people will find out that I _can't_ be the heir of Slytherin. And I've really enjoyed that so far,” Draco pouted. 

“What do you mean, you can't be? Slytherin lived a millennium ago, you very well could be,” Hermione pointed out.

“I'm a Malfoy and a Black, I can trace my lineage back just as far, and it doesn't contain Slytherin,” said Draco.

“Great, so it'll just be me then,” said Harry, ripping apart a bread roll. 

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Honestly. Do you two really think anyone is going to look a thousand years into Draco's family tree? Face it, as far as the students here are concerned, you two are guilty simply for being Slytherins caught at the scene.”

Draco grinned widely as beside him, Harry flopped onto his back and groaned.

********

  
Harry made his way to the Quidditch changing room on Saturday in a good mood, despite the roiling clouds overhead. It was the first match of the year, and Harry was really looking forward to beating Gryffindor. He was sick of the stares he got from their table at meal times, and Draco's policy of threatening Petrification to anyone who annoyed him was starting to look better and better.

Harry looked over at Draco and Theo as he pulled on his arm guards. “You nervous?”

Theo shook his head and moved over to talk last minute strategy with Gemma.

Draco shrugged. “I'm more worried about Flint than the Gryffindors, to be honest.”

Harry laughed. “You'll be fine. Besides, if Flint does get angry, he'll just take it out on Wood, not you.”

Draco gave a nervous chuckle. “They do like yelling at each other, don't they?”

“Right, you lot!” The team quieted as Flint strode in. “Apart from a new Seeker, they've got the same line up as last year.”

“Who is it?” Harry wanted to know. 

“Towler. Fourth year, I think. Weedy sort of kid. Lighter than McLaggen but doesn't look that confident, so you'll have no trouble with him. Now, it looks like a storm's coming, so let's make this a quick one, all right?”

They walked out onto the pitch to cheering from the Slytherins, although it was nearly drowned out by booing from the other houses. As the teams lined up Harry looked the opposing Seeker up and down. Harry agreed with Flint's assessment of him; more of a Seeker's build than McLaggen, but he didn't look all that happy to be on the team. 

At Hooch's whistle the teams soared into the air and it quickly became obvious that the Slytherin team had vastly superior brooms. Harry flew a quick lap around the pitch, waving at his friends who were, as usual, easily identified by the small patch of red in the Slytherin stand. He'd just swung his broom around to focus on searching for the Snitch when a Bludger went rocketing by him. He shot forward, only for the Bludger to swing around and come back at him as it began to rain.

“Look out!” Gemma nipped in front of him and belted the Bludger towards one of the Gryffindor Chasers, only for it to once again change direction and head back towards Harry's head. Gemma frowned and swung her bat at it again, sending it off towards Wood. 

Theo arrived next to Harry in time to repel the Bludger on its return. “Did you put some sort of Summoning Charm on this, Harry?” he yelled.

“No!” Harry yelled back. “Gemma, can you get Flint to call a time out?”

“On it!”

When Hooch signalled time out they flew down and met the rest of the team in a huddle. 

“Farley, Nott, what the fuck are you doing? We've missed three shots at goal due to a Bludger attacking us!” Flint fumed.

“Flint, one of the Bludgers has been tampered with, it won't leave Harry alone. Get Hooch to look it over,” Gemma replied angrily. 

“Any time we hit it away it comes right back,” Theo put in. 

Flint frowned at them before heading over to Hooch, where they watched him gesticulating angrily at her. 

“How's your first match going?” Harry asked Draco. There was a crack of thunder overhead, and the rain intensified. 

“Good. Managed to score a goal, actually, before the Gryffindor Beaters realised that both of ours were hovering around you,” Draco replied.

“Sorry,” Harry muttered.

“Hardly your fault,” Draco replied.

Flint walked back over. “Hooch says both Bludgers are fine, so are we right to continue?”

Harry nodded, then went over to the Beaters. “Guys, if the Bludger's still dodgy – ”

“Hooch says it's fine, Harry,” Gemma said reassuringly.

“Yes, but if it isn't, forget about me, okay?”

The Beaters looked at each other. “Harry...”

“Well, okay, one of you forget about me, how's that?” Harry asked impatiently.

Gemma studied him through narrowed eyes. “Fine. I'll focus on the rest of the team. No offence, Theo, but I'm more experienced.”

Harry and Theo nodded, then joined the rest of the team mounting up again. The rain was getting heavier, and Harry's robes began to soak through. This time, Theo stuck close to Harry as he flew around looking for the Snitch, and he didn't have to dodge the Bludger as often as he had previously. He was even able to watch Draco score, and punched his arm into the air in celebration.

That turned out to be a mistake, as the Bludger chose that time to rocket back towards him, and it smashed through his forearm at high speed. There was a sickening cracking sound. 

“Argh!” Harry yelled, pulling his arm in to his body. He doubled over in pain, forcing his watering eyes to remain open. 

“Harry!” Theo yelled, and made to come closer.

“No! I can see the Snitch!” Harry ground out, and yanked his broom down with his left arm. Cradling his right arm towards his body he dove after the Snitch. Luckily the Gryffindor Seeker hadn't seen it, as Harry didn't think he could handle a race for the Snitch with a broken arm. 

When he was a couple of metres off the ground the Snitch levelled out, and Harry forced his broom after it, grimacing through the pain. He pulled his left hand reluctantly off his now slippery broom handle and reached for the Snitch. As his hand closed over its fluttering wings, he over-balanced and he went tumbling forward. There was a fresh, bright stab of pain through his arm as he hit the ground, and then he passed out. 

Harry came round to a forest of feet gathered around him. 

“He's awake!” Draco cried. Harry tilted his head back to find that Draco was kneeling on the ground with Harry's head cradled on his legs, with the rest of the team standing around him. “Are you alright?”

“Infirmary,” Harry managed.

Draco nodded and signalled to someone Harry couldn't see, when the crowd parted and Harry caught a glimpse of lavender robes.

“Let me through, I can fix this in a jiffy!” Lockhart said jovially.

“No, not you. Need Pomfrey...” Harry said.

“Poor chap must be delirious, he clearly doesn't know what he's saying,” Lockhart said to the gathered crowd.

“I think he was pretty clear,” Theo snapped.

A flash cut through the rain, and Harry looked up to see Colin Creevey emerging from behind his camera. Draco noticed him as well.

“Fuck off!” 

“Now, now, Mr Malfoy, language!” Lockhart scolded, as Colin jumped. 

Harry tried to sit up and failed. “Pomfrey, please, now!” 

“I can help you, Mr Potter, now just relax!” Lockhart said, showing all his teeth in a smile.

“No!” Harry struggled again.

Lockhart shook his sleeves back with a flourish. He pointed his wand at Harry's arm, and a second later Harry felt one of the weirdest sensations of his life. Before his eyes, his arm shrank in on itself, until it resembled nothing so much as a large, flesh coloured noodle. He dimly noticed Colin snapping more pictures before he passed out again.

********

  
Harry came to again lying on a hospital bed with Pomfrey fussing over him.

“You should have come straight to me!” she fumed.

“I tried to,” Harry said weakly.

“Humph! I can mend bones instantly, but regrowing them is a much slower, and more painful, business. You'll have to stay overnight,” she said grumpily, and passed him a pair of pyjamas. She and Hermione walked around the drawn curtains as Draco helped Harry get changed. His useless arm was difficult to force through the sleeve.

“Still think Lockhart's a genius, Hermione?” Draco called through the curtain.

“I never called him a genius,” came her grumpy reply.

“You can come back now,” Harry said as he climbed awkwardly back into bed. 

Pomfrey had a large beaker of a steaming potion when she walked back to his bedside. The bottle in her other hand was labelled “Skele-Gro”. “You won't be having a fun night, let me warn you now. Regrowing bones isn't pleasant.”

Harry forced down the potion and winced at the foul taste before Pomfrey took back the beaker and retreated to her office. 

“That was a brilliant catch, Harry! We won, by the way,” Draco said. 

“It was close,” Hermione interjected.

“Only because our Beaters were more concerned with Harry than the rest of the team,” Draco replied. 

Hermione's response was drowned out by the entrance of the rest of the Slytherin team, who were bearing a pile of sweets clearly pilfered from the kitchens. 

“I'm so sorry,” Theo said immediately.

“Not as sorry as whoever messed with that Bludger will be,” Adrian muttered darkly.

“Flint's yelling at Wood right now, he's convinced the Gryffindor team did it,” Gemma said as she sat next to Hermione.

“Like he needs an excuse to get into a fight with Wood,” Miles snorted.

Pomfrey's office door banged open and she made her way over. “All of you out right now! This boy has thirty-three bones to regrow and he needs rest!”

********

  
Pomfrey had just given Harry his dinner tray and retreated to her office, shutting the door behind her, when one of the curtains around Harry twitched. He paused in reaching for his napkin and a second later Draco emerged from under Harry's Invisibility Cloak.

“Thought you might like some company,” Draco explained. “May I?”

“Sure,” Harry said gratefully and moved over in his bed. “Want some pie?”

Draco settled in beside him and shook his head. “So how bad is it?”

Harry lifted his arm and considered it. “Sort of like really bad pins and needles at the moment. Pomfrey says it'll get worse though. But hopefully I'll be asleep by that point.”

Draco grimaced. “They still don't know what happened, by the way. Wood denies touching the Bludger, and you know Gryffindors, they're more likely to just knock you off your broom than do something sneaky like this.”

“I'm beginning to think someone doesn't want me playing Quidditch at all,” Harry replied. “Last year Quirrell jinxed my broom, now a Bludger decides I'm the only player on the pitch...”

Draco shook his head. “Quirrell's gone, this had nothing to do with it. Anyway, you've more important things to worry about.”

“More important than regrowing an arm's worth of bones?” Harry looked at him sceptically.

“Yes. You need to make a formal complaint about Lockhart. He de-boned your entire arm!” Draco's eyes flashed. “Against your consent, too.”

“Huh. Hadn't thought of that. How do I do that?”

********

  
Harry awoke a few hours later. At first he thought it was Draco again, but he'd left around midnight with a promise to return first thing the next morning. Harry put his glasses on and recoiled.

“Dobby?”

The elf was sitting on Harry's bed, his green eyes glowing in the gloom. “Harry Potter! Dobby is so sorry, sir.”

“Sorry for what?” Harry asked suspiciously.

“For Harry Potter's arm, sir. Dobby was hoping that if Harry Potter was injured, he would leave Hogwarts. Dobby didn't think that Harry Potter would get his arm fixed,” the elf frowned even as a tear ran down his cheek.

“You messed with that Bludger! Wait. Why do you want me to leave?”

“Hogwarts is not safe for Harry Potter,” Dobby said earnestly.

Harry groaned. “We've been over this already. Even if Hogwarts is unsafe, it's still more fun, and more of a home, than the Dursleys' ever will be. So why are you trying to get me gone?”

“Because terrible things are happening at Hogwarts this year.”

“What, the Chamber of Secrets being opened?” Harry shrugged. “Nothing's happened since Mrs Norris got Petrified, and she's just a cat. I'll be fine.”

Dobby shook his head, making his ears flap. “No, Harry Potter is in danger. Dobby just wants Harry Potter to be safe. When Harry Potter defeated the Dark Lord, life improved for house elves. Dobby is still treated like vermin by Master, of course, but mostly, things improved for house elves when the Dark Lord fell. And now that the Chamber of Secrets is open again – ”

Harry had to grab hold of Dobby to stop him hitting himself in the head with Harry's water jug. 

“Thank you, sir.”

“It's been opened before?” Harry held his jug out of Dobby's reach. “Okay, so you can't say anything about that. Fine. Do you know who opened it?”

Dobby eyed the water jug before nodding jerkily.

“Who is it?”

“Dobby cannot say, sir! Harry Potter must leave Hogwarts and never return!”

Harry huffed angrily. “I've already told you that's not happening. Now tell me who!”

Dobby shook his head again. “Harry Potter must leave –”

“I'm not going anywhere! And you're going to stop trying to make me, or I'm writing to Mr Malfoy.” Harry glared stubbornly at the elf, once again hoping he wouldn't call his bluff.

Dobby frowned back at him, when they were startled by a noise at the door. “Dobby must go!”

Dobby disappeared with a crack. Harry hastily put the water jug back on the table and lay back against his pillow, shifting his sore arm as he watched the infirmary door. 

Dumbledore came walking backwards into the room, with McGonagall coming after him. They were carrying something stiff between them which they hauled onto a bed. Harry raised himself slightly to get a better look as McGonagall rushed off to Pomfrey's office.

On the bed was the frozen body of Colin Creevey, with his hands holding his camera in front of his face. Harry bit his lip to keep quiet as McGonagall returned with Pomfrey.

“What happened?” Pomfrey gasped.

“He was attacked on the stairs,” Dumbledore said.

“I think he must have been coming to visit Potter. There was a bunch of grapes next to him,” McGonagall said. 

Harry felt a pang of guilt.

“Petrified?” Pomfrey asked.

“Yes. If I hadn't found him...” McGonagall trailed off as they all stared down at the unmoving body.

Dumbledore bent over and eased the camera out of Colin's hands.

“You think he managed to take a picture of his attacker?” McGonagall asked.

Dumbledore's only answer was to open the back of the camera. Steam poured out of it and even on the other side of the room, Harry caught the sharp stench of burnt plastic. 

“What does this mean, Albus?” McGonagall asked slowly.

Dumbledore looked up at her gravely. “It means that the Chamber of Secrets has been opened once more.”

McGonagall stared back at him. “But who?”

Dumbledore shook his head. “I cannot say.”

As the staff exchanged worried glances, Harry lay back and stared at the ceiling. He had the feeling that both Dobby and Dumbledore knew more than they were letting on.


	8. In Which Slytherins Gamble and Harry puts on Quite a Display

Harry was in the middle of eating breakfast the next day when Draco returned to the infirmary.

“Are you allowed to leave yet?”

“Got some final tests after breakfast, but I should be,” Harry said, spooning his porridge in quickly as Pomfrey came bustling over.

Twenty minutes later they were on their way to the Slytherin common room when Harry stopped. “Let's go see Snape instead.”

Draco nodded and followed him to Snape's office. Harry hid a smile as he knocked on the door. Being injured did have its upsides, as Draco was far more biddable when he was worried about Harry. 

Snape opened the door and looked down at them and frowned. “Madam Pomfrey hasn't sent you here for a pain potion, has she?” At Harry's confused look, he continued. “For your arm, Mr Potter.”

“Oh, no, sir. I'm actually here to...” Harry glanced at Draco who nodded slightly. “I'd like to make a formal complaint about Lockhart.” 

Snape's eyebrows lifted in surprise. “A formal complaint? How... Unexpected.”

“Weren't you the one who told me to ask for help instead of blundering in on my own?” Harry asked with a grin.

“Indeed.” Snape's lips twitched as he held the door open for them.

********

  
“Why do I get the feeling that isn't going to work?” Harry muttered as they left Snape's office.

“Probably because it involves Snape going to Dumbledore, who hired Lockhart in the first place,” Draco replied. “Aqua vitae.”

The wall opened onto a crowded common room. A group of older students had a large piece of parchment tacked to the notice board and seemed to be taking money from the students clustered around them. Harry and Draco wandered over curiously.

Miles spotted them. “Hey, there they are! Anything you want to tell us?”

Harry looked at Draco, who frowned back in confusion. “Er, about what?”

“The Chamber of Secrets! Which one of you is it?” Flint called.

“What?” Harry looked him.

“For fuck's sake!” Flint strode forward and grabbed them, pulling them to front of the crowd. “You can't bet on yourselves, obviously, but you can place a bet on anyone else you like. Or, you know, tell us if it's one of you.”

“Or both of them!” 

Flint nodded. “Or if it's both of you.”

Draco smirked. “And ruin all the fun? Why would we do that?”

Harry ignored him and turned to the notice board and read the parchment.

  
_THE HEIR OF SLYTHERIN_  
_Draco Malfoy_  
_Harry Potter_  
_Harry Potter & Draco Malfoy_  
_Salazar Slytherin's ghost_  
_The Bloody Baron_  
_Professor Snape_  
_Coalition of the other houses_  
_Marcus Flint_  
_Gemma Farley_  
_Reed Hawthorn_  
_Titus Mitcham_  
_Zubeida Khan_  
_Lucian Bole_  
_Graham Montague_  
_The Dark Lord_  
_The Dark Lord's Mum_

  


Harry gave an incredulous laugh. “Is everyone here very stoned?”

“Ignore the last few. People started adding their friends to the list. And obviously the last two entries are completely impossible,” Miles said.

“Who bet on them?” Draco asked. 

Miles consulted his notes. “Your friends, actually. Nott and Zabini bet on the Dark Lord, and Crabbe and Goyle on his mum.”

Draco snorted. “Of course they did. Why on earth is Hawthorn on here? Surely this would involve breaking far too many rules for him to have done it.”

“He tried to shut us down, and some people took that as an admission of guilt,” replied a sixth year. “But most of the serious money is one or both of you.”

“So are you in? Minimum one Galleon per bet, as many bets as you want, so long as you don't bet on yourself,” Flint said briskly.

Draco stopped in the process of pulling out some coins. “Can't bet on myself? Fuck that.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Fine, a Galleon on Draco.” He handed his coin to Flint, and received a hand-written receipt. Draco grumbled before betting on Harry, and then they returned to their dorm. 

“Your arm alright now?” Blaise asked.

“Yeah, fine. I never want to go through that again, though,” Harry replied. Blaise grimaced in sympathy. 

“Zabini, what the fuck? You and Nott bet on the Dark Lord?” Draco demanded.

Blaise laughed. “Yeah. What's it to you?”

“I was rather enjoying having the school think it was me! No one's going to think that anymore if my own friends don't bet on me!”

Theo rolled his eyes. “We know you're full of it Malfoy. And the Dark Lord was pretty active last year for someone who's supposedly dead, so it's not that far-fetched. You've still got good odds, so what's the problem?”

“It's the principle of the thing,” Draco sniffed.

“Go yell at Vince and Greg. At least our bet has some chance of being true,” Blaise said dismissively.

********

  
After Colin's attack the mood in Hogwarts soured, and even the Hufflepuff – Ravenclaw Quidditch match was oddly subdued. First years had taken to flocking together as they moved around the castle, as if they were afraid another of their number would be attacked. Most students were even more suspicious of Harry and Draco, as neither had an alibi for the time of the attack. Harry was now habitually leaving Potions in a bad mood after the whispers of the Gryffindors that persisted despite Snape's point taking.

Even Herbology, which they shared with the Ravenclaws, was somewhat of an ordeal. While not as overt as the Gryffindors, they still made classes awkward. Harry and Draco had spent the start of the year working in a group with two Ravenclaw girls, Morag MacDougal and Padma Patil, and had gotten along fine with them. But the first lesson after Colin's attack, they'd suddenly found their table now contained Daphne and Tracey instead. Harry tried not to let it rankle, as both girls were good at Herbology, but it still upset him that people he'd liked were now avoiding him. Even Draco's threats of Petrification to anyone who annoyed him were now starting to sound slightly defensive.

Altogether, Harry wasn't as happy as he'd been last year to sign up to stay at Hogwarts over Christmas. At least this year he'd have company, as Draco and Hermione were staying too. Mrs Malfoy was in the midst of redecorating Malfoy Manor, and Draco declared her to be unbearable during such times. Hermione just wanted to stay for the library. Greg and Vince were also staying, as they wanted to try the food at the Hogwarts Christmas feast.

One morning Harry was walking across the Entrance Hall with Pansy and Millicent when they noticed a small crowd in front of the notice board. They made their way over and the group scattered as they noticed Harry. 

“Draco's right, that really is fun,” Pansy giggled. 

“Yeah, it's hilarious the way everyone's scared of me,” Harry snapped. 

“Shut up and look at this,” Millicent said, pointing at the notice board.

“A Duelling Club? Sounds like fun,” Harry said.

Pansy nodded. “Good work, Milly.”

“I told you, my name is _Millicent_.”

“Uh huh, sure. Come on, let's go tell the others about this,” Pansy smiled up at the glowering Millicent.

At eight o'clock that night the second year Slytherins made their way to the Great Hall in a group, talking excitedly about the Duelling Club.

“So who do you think will be teaching it?” Blaise asked.

“Snape and McGonagall,” Millicent said instantly.

“How'd you find that out?” Theo wanted to know.

Millicent shrugged. “I didn't. I just really want to see those two fight. It'd be amazing.”

“As long as it's not Lockhart,” said Harry.

They entered the Great Hall to find most of the school there already. The house tables had been removed, leaving a long stage that ran the length of the hall. Greg and Vince cleared a path through the crowd so that they were standing next to one side of the stage. Harry waved at Hermione and Neville on the other side, and was relieved when they both waved back. 

A second later Harry groaned when Lockhart walked onto the stage, waving so that his purple robes rippled in the candlelight. He was followed by Snape, who was glaring at Lockhart rather than waving.

Theo nudged Harry. “Don't worry, Snape'll eviscerate him!” They sniggered and ignored Daphne's glare.

Lockhart beamed down at everyone. “Good evening! Can everyone see me? Yes? Can everyone hear me? Good. Now, the Headmaster has graciously allowed me to start up a duelling club, so that you're all well prepared if ever you should need to defend yourselves – as I have on many occasions – but then you all know that, having read my books!”

Harry mimed sticking a finger down his throat, making Theo and Pansy burst into muffled laughter.

“And now allow me to introduce my assistant here, Professor Snape. He tells me he has a little experience in this area, and has kindly agreed to join me with a brief demonstration before we get started. But don't you worry, I'll leave your Potions master in one piece!”

Snape's upper lip curled as his glare intensified. Harry looked at Lockhart and wondered how he could be so oblivious that he'd remain smiling when Snape was looking at him like that. 

The two teachers strode to the far ends of the stage before turning to face each other. Snape jerked his head at Lockhart, who was bowing elaborately. They straightened up and held their wands up like swords. 

“Now, this is the standard position for combat. On the count of three we will begin, though of course, on this occasion, we shan't be fighting to kill,” Lockhart declared. 

“One of them might be,” Draco whispered.

“One... Two... Three!”

“ _Expelliarmus!_ ” Snape cried. A jet of red light shot out of his wand and hit Lockhart squarely in the chest. His wand flew out of his hand and he shot into the air before flying backwards off the stage to hit the wall behind it. Harry high-fived Draco as they cheered along with the other Slytherins. 

“No!” Daphne squealed as she grabbed onto Tracey's arm. Tracey frowned at her and pulled her arm free. 

Lockhart got to his feet looking shaken. “There, now, that was a Disarming Charm. If someone has seen my wand – ah, thank you, Miss Brown. Yes, capital idea to demonstrate that, Professor Snape. I, of course, _could_ have blocked you if I'd wanted, as you telegraphed your move rather obviously, but for demonstrative purposes...”

Lockhart must have finally noticed Snape's expression as he quickly changed tacks. “Well! Enough from us! Professor Snape, if you'd like to assist, let's get them into pairs so they can have a go!”

Harry quickly stood close to Draco as the teachers moved through the crowd. The rest of the second year Slytherins carefully gave Vince and Greg a wide berth, as they'd all seen first hand their clumsy wand-work. Harry winced a little as he saw Hermione pair off with Neville.

“Face your partners and bow to each other!” Lockhart called out over the din.

Harry and Draco bowed at each other and grinned. 

“On the count of three, try to disarm your partners! One... Two... Three!”

“ _Expelliarmus!_ ” Harry cried. A flash of red light, and Draco's wand was spinning out of his hand. He shot a surprised look at Harry and went to retrieve it. Harry took the moment to look around the hall. Pansy seemed to have succeeded, as Millicent was wandless and currently had Pansy in a headlock instead. As Harry watched in amusement, Snape made his way over to them. 

“Are you a witch or a Neanderthal, Miss Bulstrode?” he snapped. “Release Miss Parkinson at once.”

As soon as she was free, Pansy skipped back a metre and stuck out her tongue at Millicent. Snape didn't see as he walked over to Harry.

“Mr Potter, did you disarm Mr Malfoy on your first attempt?”

“Yes, sir,” Harry grinned.

“Ten points to Slytherin,” Snape said, before moving off to separate Greg and Vince, who were wrestling on the floor. 

“Gather round, everyone!” Lockhart looked more dishevelled as he surveyed the scene. “Well, seems I'd better teach you all how to block. Perhaps some volunteers... Miss Granger and Mr Longbottom, up you get.”

“I think not, Professor Lockhart,” Snape said. “Mr Longbottom would no doubt manage to so mangle a Disarming Charm that we would have to rush Miss Granger to the hospital wing. Now, how about... Mr Potter and Mr Weasley?”

“Ah, excellent! A bit of house rivalry, how about that?” Lockhart chuckled as he waved the two boys on stage. Harry smiled apologetically at Hermione and Neville as he climbed the short flight of stairs to face off against Ron.

Lockhart was talking to Ron with his wand out. Harry looked up at Snape. “Sir?”

Snape gave a dismissive glance at the other end of the stage. “If you can disarm Mr Malfoy you can do the same to Mr Weasley.”

“Right.” Harry turned back around to see Ron gripping his wand nervously.

Lockhart clapped his hands. “One... Two... Three!”

“ _Expelliarmus!_ ” Harry shouted, grinning as Ron got knocked over. He got to his feet as Seamus handed him back his wand.

“Excellent work, Mr Potter! Ten points to Slytherin! Now, how about something a bit more interesting?” Lockhart smiled at the crowd before turning to Ron.

Harry looked up when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Snape had a slight smirk on his face. “ _Serpensortia_. I think you'll enjoy that.”

“ _Serpensortia_ ,” Harry repeated. “Right, got it. Thanks, sir.”

He turned back around to see Lockhart picking up his wand. “Whoops! Jumpy wand!”

“Scared, Weasel?” Harry asked softly.

“As if!” Ron blustered.

“And again!” Lockhart called. “One... Two... Three!”

Harry saw Ron open his mouth and quickly shouted “ _Serpensortia!_ ” To his surprise, a long black snake exploded out of his wand and landed heavily on the stage. It raised its head as it looked around at the crowd, which was quickly backing away.

“Stay there, Mr Weasley, I'll get rid of it,” Snape said idly. It was clear he was enjoying the look on Ron's face as he stared at the snake.

“I'll do it!” Lockhart waved his wand at the snake. There was a loud bang as the snake shot a few metres into the air before falling back to the stage with a nasty sounding thud. It hissed angrily and raised its head to strike at a second year Hufflepuff Harry vaguely recognised.

Harry stepped forward warily. “ _Don't hurt him!_ ” The snake slowly dropped its head to the floor, and Harry could have sworn it was sulking. “ _You could try scaring the redhead, if you want. I'm kidding!_ ” he quickly added, laughing nervously. He watched the snake to make sure it wasn't going to attack Ron, before smiling at the Hufflepuff boy. Instead of the relief he expected to see, he was faced with a terrified confusion.

“What the hell are you doing?” he shouted at Harry, before running out of the hall.

Harry looked around in confusion, to see most people looking at him with similar expressions. Hermione looked betrayed as well as confused, as did his Slytherin friends. In fact, only Draco looked normal; he had a wide smirk on his face as he watched Snape vanish the snake.

“Right, well, I think that's enough excitement for one evening!” Lockhart said shakily. “Off to bed now, everyone.”

When the students remained where they were, Snape barked at them. “Detention for anyone still here in thirty seconds!”

There was a mad rush for the exit. Harry made to join them, but Snape stopped him with a upraised hand. “Not you, Mr Potter.”

Lockhart was chivvying students out of the hall. Draco dodged him and looked back towards Harry. Snape rolled his eyes. “ _Now_ , Mr Malfoy.”

The hall was empty when Snape finally led Harry off the stage. He paused at the doorway and waved his wand a few times, replacing the stage with the usual tables. 

“Come along, Mr Potter,” Snape said. Harry swallowed a sigh and followed in silence as Snape led him through the deserted hallways to his office. He sat down behind his desk and waited as Harry sat nervously before him. “What was that?”

Harry shrugged. “I'm a Parselmouth, sir.”

“Indeed. And how long have you been aware of this?”

“I dunno... I set a snake on Dudley at the zoo last year... And I convinced a bunch of snakes to invade the Dursleys' front garden over the summer,” Harry said with a fond smile. 

Snape smirked. “So it's not a fluke then?”

“No. I can prove it, if you like,” Harry offered. 

“How?”

“You'll need to follow me,” Harry said. Snape studied him before giving a short nod and standing up.

Harry led Snape out in the deserted corridor to Ollie's portrait. Luckily he was in his frame. “ _Hi Ollie. Do you have a minute?_ ”

“ _For you, yes, Harry_.” Ollie raised his head.

“ _Thanks. Er, I need to prove to Snape that I can talk to snakes. Have an actual conversation, I mean_.” Harry looked at Snape out of the corner of his eye. “ _I think he might think I'm just making random hissing noises_.”

Ollie chuckled. “ _Does he. Well, inform Professor Snape that I used to see him avoid certain Gryffindor boys by hiding in an abandoned classroom further down this corridor_ ”

“Er, Ollie says that he used to see you hide from some Gryffindors in a classroom further down this corridor,” Harry said nervously. 

A muscle twitched in Snape's jaw. “Indeed.”

“ _Also inform Professor Snape that I was pleased when he replaced Professor Slughorn as Head of Slytherin House_ ,” Ollie added.

Harry grinned. “And he was happy to see you replace Professor Slughorn as Head of Slytherin.”

Snape gave Ollie a small smile. “Give him my thanks and come along.”

“Just a second. _He says thanks. Also, I've been meaning to ask you, have you heard about Mrs Norris?_ ”

“ _What about her? _” Ollie asked.__

_She's been attacked. She's lying frozen in the infirmary_ ,” Harry said with a grin.

Ollie flicked his tongue out interestedly. “ _Has she? Excuse me, Harry, I need to see this_.”

Harry laughed as Ollie slithered out of his frame and turned to Snape, who was waiting impatiently. “Sorry, sir. He hadn't heard about Mrs Norris. He's gone off to laugh at her."

“That... Makes sense.” Snape started walking back to his office. “Before this evening, had anyone else been aware you're a Parselmouth?"

“Just the Malfoys.”

Snape held open his office door and looked at Harry in surprise. “What, all of them?”

“Yeah. I stayed at Draco's house during the summer, and his parents found out then. Draco knew last year. He actually told me how rare it was, before that I just assumed everyone could do it. So now I'm teaching him.”

“Teaching him Parseltongue?” Snape asked.

“Yeah. Not the easiest thing, but I'm getting better at teaching. And he's making progress with creating a writing system for it, so he doesn't have to just memorise everything now.”

Snape stared at him. “That is remarkable,” he said finally.

“I guess,” Harry shrugged.

"Be that as it may, I'm sure you have grasped the implications of this evening's events,” Snape said.

“Er... No.”

Snape sighed. “Parseltongue is considered somewhat of a Dark talent for one to possess, Mr Potter.”

Harry frowned. “Why? Who wouldn't want to be able to talk to animals?”

“Because Parselmouths are often Dark wizards. The last known Parselmouth was in fact the Dark Lord.”

“Oh.”

“Indeed. But the point I wished to make was that Salazar Slytherin was a Parselmouth; that's why the emblem of Slytherin House is a serpent.”

Harry groaned. “So now everyone is going to be sure I'm the heir of Slytherin.”

“Precisely.”

“Brilliant. Now Draco's going to be mad at me, as well.”

Snape rolled his eyes. “Mr Malfoy will forgive you, I'm sure. Especially once you tell him I've received complaints about the way he has been behaving recently. I was almost at the point of having a talk with him about it. Besides which, after the school witnessed you conversing with a snake about to attack Finch-Fletchley, you'll have bigger problems.”

“I told the snake not to attack him!” Harry protested.

“People see what they want to see, Mr Potter, and you were already under suspicion. I dare say that after tonight, many people will be convinced of your guilt.”

Harry could have sworn he saw a glimmer of pity in Snape's dark eyes as he was dismissed.


	9. In Which Hufflepuffs are Morons, Dumbledore is Infuriating, and Hermione Brings Boys into her Bedroom

Harry woke early the next morning after a fitful sleep. He'd returned to the common room to find that he was the clear favourite in the betting pool, and had half of Slytherin coming up to either thank him or swear at him. He'd retreated to his dorm, only to find Draco cornered by Theo and Blaise, who were angry he hadn't told them about Harry being a Parselmouth. They'd turned their attention to Harry, and it took a while before he could placate them enough to escape to bed. 

Harry got his Walkman out and finished that week's assigned reading as he waited for his friends to wake up. He wasn't sure how much he took in though, as he couldn't get the image of that Hufflepuff's face out of his mind. Finch-Fletchley, Snape had called him. Harry sighed and put away his books and Walkman when the others started to wake up. 

“So, can you say something in Parseltongue?” Blaise asked as they made their way to breakfast.

“ _No, I lost the ability over night_ ,” Harry replied. 

Blaise grinned. “That's so cool.”

Draco snorted behind them. “ _Shut up, Malfoy_ ,” Harry hissed over his shoulder.

“ _Make me, you prat_ ,” Draco replied. 

“You speak Parseltongue too?” Blaise asked.

“A little. Harry's teaching me.”

Theo's head jerked up. “Can you teach me too?”

Harry groaned. “It's hard enough teaching Draco. Besides, I'm always telling you and Tracey about Muggle stuff.”

“Fine,” Theo grumbled.

When they walked into the Great Hall there was a hush as everyone turned to stare at them, before conversation started up again. Harry sat down and looked around him warily. Nearly everyone else in the hall was staring at the Slytherin table with suspicion, mostly at Harry. 

“This can't be good,” Harry muttered nervously.

Even Vince and Greg looked a little unnerved at the attention. “Is this because of the snake thing?” Greg asked.

“Partly,” Theo replied.

“You lot look cheerful,” Pansy said as she slid onto the bench. 

“Have you looked around you?” Blaise asked.

The girls looked around the hall. “Yikes,” said Daphne, and wriggled closer to Harry.

“Oh come on, it's not that bad,” Draco snapped.

“Three quarters of the school are glaring at us, I'd say that's pretty bad,” said Millicent. 

“That's it,” Harry said angrily. “Pansy, you know everything about everyone.”

“I do, yes. What of it?” Pansy preened.

“I'm going to go talk to that Hufflepuff from last night. Tell him I told the snake not to attack him.”

“Waste of time,” Millicent said.

“I can try,” Harry said stubbornly. “Snape called him Finch-Fletchley.”

Pansy nodded. “Yes, Justin. Hufflepuff in our year, Muggle-born, pretentious wanker. Should be in Herbology with the Gryffindors this morning.”

“Should be?”

Pansy pointed to the ceiling, where Harry could see it was snowing heavily. “I doubt Sprout would be holding a class in this weather. If he's not still at breakfast or in the Hufflepuff common room, I'd try the library, if you want to find him. He's a bit of a nerd, and spends a lot of time in there studying.”

“Pansy, you're fantastic. Thanks,” Harry said gratefully. He scanned the Hufflepuff table, but couldn't see Justin. 

“Want me to come with you?” Draco asked.

“No, I don't want to scare him off. It's going to be hard enough by myself, I think,” Harry said as he stood up.

Draco nodded. “Good luck, then.”

Harry waved at his friends as he set off for the library, trying to ignore the way heads swivelled as he passed by. Getting this sorted out with Justin would hopefully lessen the cloud of suspicion hanging over Harry's head. At the very least, he couldn't make things any worse. 

Harry ignored the look Madam Pince gave him as he entered the library and focused on the students sitting in groups at the study tables. There was a group of Hufflepuffs sitting at one in the back, and Harry was heading towards them when he caught part of their conversation. He ducked into the row of books next to him and listened in.

“So you think it's Potter then, Ernie?” asked a blonde girl.

“Of course. How many good wizards can speak Parseltongue?” replied a chubby boy. His friends murmured in agreement, and he continued, “And you saw what was written on the wall. _Enemies of the Heir Beware_. That Creevey kid was taking photos of him when he got injured at Quidditch. The next day, he's Petrified.”

“Yes, but he also had a run in with Malfoy earlier in the term. And _he's_ been threatening people with Petrification,” said a red-headed girl.

“It could be both of them,” the blonde girl offered. “They're always together, maybe one of them is the Heir, and has convinced the other to help him?”

“But Potter's the one who made You-Know-Who disappear,” the redhead said. “How can he be bad if he did that? Plus he isn't a pure-blood.”

Ernie looked at her pityingly. “Susan, think about it. How could a baby do that, if he didn't have some strong, Dark magic? You-Know-Who probably saw him as a threat, and went to snuff him out before he got too powerful. And even if Potter isn't a pure-blood, I've heard he hates the Muggles he lives with.”

“Oh for fuck's sake,” Harry muttered, and stepped out of his row. There was a gasp from the blonde when she saw him standing near their table.

“What do you want?” Ernie had gone pale, but was frowning at Harry stubbornly.

“I'm looking for Justin, actually,” Harry said. The Hufflepuffs looked at each other nervously.

“What do you want with him?” 

“I wanted to explain about last night. Have you seen him?”

“Yes, but I'm not telling you anything!”

Harry huffed in frustration as he tried to remain calm. “Look, I don't want to – to hurt him, or anything, alright? I just wanted to tell him that I told the snake _not_ to attack him last night. You were all there, you saw the snake lie down and leave him alone after I spoke to it!”

“We heard you speaking Parseltongue, we don't know what you said,” Susan replied.

“Well use your bloody brains, why don't you?” Harry snapped. “The snake was about to attack him before I spoke to it, and then it immediately stopped. It shouldn't be that hard to work out!”

Susan looked a little doubtful, but Ernie shook his head stubbornly. “All we have is your word on it.”

Harry let out a groan and went to leave, before whirling back around. “You know, I just realised why none of you were sorted into Ravenclaw. You're all bloody idiots.” Ernie opened his mouth to argue back, but Harry raised his voice. “Yeah, I made Voldemort disappear somehow. I don't know how, because I was a fucking _baby_ at the time, alright? And yeah, I hate the Muggles I live with, because they're _horrible people_. That doesn't mean I have a problem with Muggle-borns. My _mum_ was a Muggle-born! And one of my best friends is, too! You have Herbology with Hermione, right? You really think that Hermione would hang around people who hate her? Unless, of course, you think she's as dumb as you all seem to be. So why don't you all just shut up about things you have no idea about!”

Harry didn't give them a chance to reply, but turned around and stormed out of the library, ignoring Madam Pince's glare. He wasn't looking where he was going, and just walked blindly down a corridor until he ran into something large which knocked him to the ground. 

Harry looked up to find Hagrid standing over him. “Hi, Hagrid,” he said as he stood up.

Hagrid's face was covered with a fuzzy balaclava, and he had a dead rooster in one hand. “Hullo, Harry. Why aren't you in class?”

“Free period,” Harry replied. “Why do you have a dead rooster with you?”

Hagrid looked down at his hand as if he'd forgotten the rooster was there. “Something's bin killin' me roosters. This is the second one this term. It's either foxes or a Blood-Suckin' Bugbear, but I need Dumbledore's permission to put a charm around the chook house.” Hagrid paused, and leaned a little closer. “Yeh sure yer all right? Yeh look mighty annoyed about somethin'.”

Harry shook his head. “I'm fine, just... There are some real idiots in this school, you know?”

Hagrid chuckled. “Ah, just ignore them, Harry, it'll blow over.”

“Yeah, I guess. Look, I need to get my Charms book for next period, but I'll come down for tea on the weekend. I'll bring Draco and Hermione, too.”

Harry was slightly calmer as he walked off down the corridor. He shivered; there was a broken window and an icy breeze was blowing down the corridor. Most of the torches had been blown out, and in the gloom Harry tripped over something. He rolled over to look at what he'd tripped over and froze. 

Justin Finch-Fletchley lay Petrified on the ground, his frozen face staring sightlessly upwards. Lying next to him was one of the oddest things Harry had seen. A ghost was lying next to him, floating a few centimetres off the ground. His head was hanging half off his neck, and Harry recognised him as the Gryffindor ghost, Nearly Headless Nick. He was no longer silvery and transparent, but looked like he was made of black smoke. 

Harry let out a shaky breath as he got to his feet. This was not good, not good at all. He looked around him, but there was no one in the corridor. He could hear the muffled sounds of nearby classes, but he was alone in the corridor. He could run and deny ever being here – but he should get help. Or would that still make him seem guilty? He stood there trying not to panic, when Peeves burst out of a classroom next to him. 

“It's wee Parselmouth Potter! Hiss hiss hiss, give a snake a kiss!” Peeves cackled, before he caught sight of the figures lying frozen. He came to an exaggerated stop in mid-air. “ATTACK! ATTACK! POTTER'S ON THE RAMPAGE! NO ONE IS SAFE, NOT EVEN A GHOST! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!”

There was an explosion of noise as all along the corridor classroom doors opened and people came rushing out. There were a few minutes of panicked confusion as people milled about, stepping in Nick and nearly trampling Justin. Teachers were calling for calm as Harry got pushed to the wall by some older Gryffindors. McGonagall hurried down the corridor, making a loud bang with her wand before ordering everyone back to their classes. Flitwick and Sinistra bent over Justin and the ghost to examine them. As people started to wander away, Ernie came panting up. 

“ _Caught in the act!_ ” he shouted as he pointed at Harry.

“Enough, Macmillan!” McGonagall said sternly. 

Peeves was still hanging overhead, grinning at the mayhem. “ _Oh Potter, you rotter, oh what have you done, you're killing off students, you think it's good fun!_ ”

“Silence, Peeves!” McGonagall snapped, and the poltergeist flew away backwards, sticking his tongue out at Harry.

Flitwick and Sinistra carried Justin to the infirmary, but the ghost was a bit more problematic. Eventually, McGonagall conjured up a fan and directed Ernie to use it to blow Nick to the infirmary, leaving her and Harry alone in the corridor. 

“Follow me, Potter,” she said.

“Professor, I swear to you that –”

“Save it for the Headmaster, Potter,” she replied.

Harry followed her in silence to an ugly gargoyle. “Sherbert lemon!” This was obviously a password, as her words caused the gargoyle to leap aside and the wall behind it to open onto a moving staircase. They stepped onto it and were carried up a narrow tower, like a spiral escalator. They stepped off at the top and McGonagall knocked on a door with a griffon-shaped door knocker. It opened at her touch, and she curtly ordered Harry to wait there before she left.

Harry looked around him curiously as he tried to quash his rising panic. This must be Dumbledore's office. The walls were covered with portraits of previous heads of school, all of whom were currently sleeping in their frames. There were a number of strange instruments around the room, on tables and shelves, and Harry couldn't figure out what any of them might be for. The Sorting Hat was sitting on a shelf behind the desk, but it wasn't moving. 

There was a strange choking sound behind Harry, and he spun around to see an extremely old, extremely ill-looking bird sitting on a perch. Most of its feathers had fallen out, and Harry thought it was one of the ugliest things he'd seen in a while. It stared back at him before giving another coughing sound, and then it burst into flames. 

“Shit!” Harry looked around him desperately for some water, but couldn't see anything. He watched helplessly as the bird gave a shriek and burnt into a pile of ash. Harry swore again as he crept closer. He was already in enough trouble without Dumbledore thinking he'd killed his bird, too. He heard the door open and jerked around. 

“Sir, your bird just... I couldn't do anything, it was too quick!”

Dumbledore merely smiled. “Finally. I've been telling him to hurry up, he's looked awful for a week now.” When Harry frowned at him in confusion, Dumbledore chuckled. “Fawkes is a phoenix, Harry. When they get old, they burst into flames to die, and then they are reborn from the ashes. If you watch him now, you'll see what I mean.”

Harry watched in amazement as the ashes wriggled. Soon enough, an ugly chick was sitting there. Dumbledore picked him up and put him back on the perch. 

“It's a shame you had to see him today. Fawkes is usually quite magnificent. And phoenixes are terribly useful, but you know all that from your Potions classes, of course.”

“Er, yes, sir,” Harry said, still staring at the bird. It looked like a bald cygnet, and he couldn't imagine it ever looking magnificent. His train of thought was broken when Hagrid burst through the door, waving the dead rooster around so that feathers rained down in the office.

“It wasn't him, Headmaster! I was with him just before the attack, he had no time to do it!” Hagrid yelled. Dumbledore raised his hand, but Hagrid continued ranting over him. “And he _wouldn't_ , Headmaster, I know Harry, he wouldn't do that, not to anyone!”

“Hagrid –”

“I'll swear it before the Ministry if yeh need me to! I'll –” 

“Hagrid!” Dumbledore bellowed, silencing Hagrid. “I don't think Harry did anything.”

Hagrid dropped his arms, causing more feathers to flutter to the ground. “Right, then. I'll, uh, wait outside then.” 

He trooped outside, and Dumbledore took a seat behind his desk. Harry stood there nervously; watching Fawkes had made him forget why he was there, but now all his anxiety was flooding back. Dumbledore pressed his fingers together as he watched him, and Harry had a ridiculous urge to laugh; he looked like Mr Burns from _The Simpsons_. Harry half expected him to say “excellent”.

“So, Harry, is there anything you'd like to tell me?”

Harry looked away and watched Fawkes wriggling on the perch.

“Anything at all? Something bothering you? Someone, perhaps?”

Harry jerked his head up. “You mean apart from most of the school thinking I'm evil?”

Dumbledore smiled gently at him. “Yes, apart from that.”

Harry stopped himself from rolling his eyes with some effort. “Well, I was wondering if anything was going to happen with the complaint I made about Professor Lockhart.”

“Ah.” Dumbledore studied him in silence for a minute. “Well, Harry, there isn't anything we can do about that.”

Harry stared at him. “Nothing you can do about a teacher removing all the bones in my arm?”

“No. I'm afraid that Professor Lockhart didn't break any school rules. While I understand it led to an uncomfortable night for you, you're all right now. So no harm done.”

Harry glanced at Fawkes again before he replied. “I see. Is that all, Professor?”

Dumbledore gazed at him, giving him the impression he was being X-rayed. “Yes, that's all.”

Harry nodded once and left fuming, giving Hagrid a quick, grimace-like smile as he passed him on the stairs. He was late for Charms now, but didn't feel like going to class. Figuring he could always tell Flitwick that he'd been held up by Dumbledore, he headed straight for the Slytherin common room. There were a few students out in the corridors at this time, and they all shied away from him as he passed, doing nothing to improve his mood. 

“Aqua vitae,” he said to the stone wall. It didn't move. “Aqua vitae!” The wall continued to act like, well, a stone wall. He'd forgotten to check the new password before he left the common room that morning. “Great. That's just fucking great,” he said angrily. “Er... Green and silver? Er... Cunning and ambition? Merlin. Salazar. Slytherin's monster.” The wall stayed shut. “ _Parselmouth_.” The last he'd said in Parseltongue.

To his surprise the wall slid open. 

Harry stared at it. After a few seconds, it closed again. “ _Do you open to Parseltongue?_ ”

The wall slid open again. Harry stepped through, frowning. So the wall opened to Parseltongue. Well, that was good to know. No more worrying if he couldn't remember the password. He ignored the few students sitting in the common room, and made his way to the notice board to check the password. _Pure-blood_ , it said. Harry stared at it as his anger came back. 

“Good to know I don't need to say _that_ ,” he muttered, and retreated to his bed.  


********

  
On the first day of the Christmas break, Harry and Draco hurried back to the dorm while Greg and Vince were still at breakfast. Hermione had cornered them in the Great Hall to complain about being left alone in Gryffindor with only the Weasleys for company, so they'd decided to sneak up to join her.

“ _Open_ ,” Harry hissed.

Draco rolled his eyes as they stepped through the entranceway. “So you're never using the actual password again?”

“Not this one, no,” Harry said shortly. 

“I still can't believe that it opens for Parseltongue like that.”

“Well Parselmouths are rare, there's probably a better chance of someone from another house finding out the real password than speaking Parseltongue.”

“All the same, we can never tell anyone about that,” Draco said.

Harry looked up from his trunk and glared. “How dumb do you think I am? Of course I'm not going to tell anyone else.”

“Just making sure.”

Harry slipped his Walkman into his pocket and held up his Invisibility Cloak. “Ready?”

Draco picked up a large box of sweets from his mother. “I am now.”

They walked slowly through the common room, under the Cloak. While Colin's attack had prompted somewhat of an exodus amongst the other houses, there were still quite a few Slytherins staying at Hogwarts for Christmas. Out in the corridors the castle was weirdly quiet. They didn't see anyone except for the Bloody Baron and the Hufflepuff ghost, who appeared out of the wall in front of them. Luckily the ghosts were deep in conversation and simply glided through the wall on the other side of the corridor. 

When they reached the stairs to Gryffindor tower they found Hermione sitting at the base of them with her head in a book. 

“We're here,” Harry said quietly.

“Finally, I've been getting some weird looks from Percy,” Hermione said to Draco's left shoulder. 

“Percy?” 

Hermione started climbing the stairs. “Weasley. He's a Prefect, and has already passed me twice. I could see him trying to think of something he could tell me off for.”

They fell silent as they reached the top of the staircase. “Tiddlywinks,” said Hermione, then stepped through the now open portrait hole. 

“Seriously, who chooses their passwords?” Draco whispered in Harry's ear as they slipped in behind her. 

Harry snorted quietly. Gryffindor might have silly passwords, but at least they weren't offensive like Slytherin's currently was. 

Harry and Draco remained under the Cloak until they got into Hermione's room. It was smaller than their own, with only three beds in it. Like the common room it was round and red. 

“Gee, I wonder which bed is yours,” Draco drawled. 

Harry laughed. Two of the beds had posters of what Harry assumed to be wizarding celebrities plastered around them. He caught sight of Lockhart's toothy grin and looked away to Hermione's bed, which was surrounded by piles of books and neat stacks of parchment and quills. There were two picture frames on her bedside table. One showed a Muggle photo of her with her parents, and the other had a moving photo of her with Harry and Draco. 

Harry walked over and picked it up. It showed the three of them sitting by the lake laughing at something. As he watched, he saw himself throw a bread roll at Draco, who then tackled him to the ground as Hermione rolled her eyes. Harry watched the full loop a couple of times before putting the frame back down. 

“I like the photo.”

“Me too,” Hermione smiled.

Draco narrowed his eyes as he looked at it. “Who took that?”

“Colin,” Hermione said. When Draco frowned, she continued. “Alright, yes, it's a bit creepy but... I liked the photo and convinced him to give it to me. So just leave it, please.”

When Draco looked like he was going to argue further, Harry sat down on Hermione's bed and pulled Draco down with him. “It's a nice photo, just forget about it,” Harry said as he put his Walkman on the bed. 

Draco looked at him sourly. “Hermione, has Harry told you he's been hearing voices?”

“Malfoy!” Harry glared at him before turning to Hermione. “Just one voice, actually.”

“Because that makes all the difference,” Draco muttered. 

“Is this true?” Hermione looked worried.

Harry stalled, turning the tape on at full volume so that the tinny sound drifted up to them from the headphones. “Yeah, I guess. Snape told me it might just have been, er, emotional stress or something.”

“Emotional stress?”

Harry sighed and told her the whole story. When he finished Hermione was frowning into the distance. 

Draco handed Harry a toffee. “Sorry,” he muttered.

Hermione snapped back to the present as he broke the silence. “Snape's theory might explain your hearing something on Halloween, but not in Lockhart's office. It's just so odd that Draco didn't hear anything either time.”

Draco shrugged. “Maybe Harry's a seer?”

“Well, he's not a particularly good one, if that's the case,” she said. They stared at her. “Think about it. Both times you heard someone saying they were going to kill. So far, everyone's just been Petrified rather than killed, but not because you were able to change or prevent anything from your advanced warning. So I don't think that's it.”

“I'd rather be a useless seer than a lunatic,” Harry muttered. 

“You're not crazy, Harry,” Hermione sighed. “I'm sure there's an explanation. We just don't have enough information to work it out yet.”

“Well, I've written to my parents asking if they know anything about the last time it was opened, so that might help,” Draco said. 

“Can we not talk about this right now? It's the first day of holidays, and we've arrived with good music and sweets to save you from a tower full of Weasleys,” Harry said firmly.

Draco sniggered. “Trust Hermione to sneak two boys into her bedroom and then want to solve mysteries.”

“Oh, I'm sorry, were you hoping to snog?” Hermione asked, arching a brow at Draco. Harry watched as they stared at each other. To his surprise, Draco blushed and looked away first, and Hermione smiled oddly. Whatever had just happened, neither one seemed to want to tell Harry. 

He cleared his throat. “How about we continue Draco's education in Muggle music?”

Hermione smiled normally. “What have you got?”

“Just Pearl Jam's _Ten_ at the moment. I'll get more tapes next summer.”

“I wouldn't have figured you for a grunge fan,” Hermione said as she selected a toffee.

Harry grinned. “My aunt hates it. Too much long hair and baggy clothes for her, I think. She caught Dudley watching one of their video clips and actually told him he couldn't listen to them, so I decided I would. Turns out I like them.”

“I'm sorry, did you just say that my education in Muggle music is revenge-based?” Draco asked.

“Problem?”

Draco shook his head and grinned. “I think I'll pay proper attention now.”


	10. In Which Harry and Draco Receive Less Than Pleasant Mail and Become Well Acquainted with a Condiment

Harry was woken early on Christmas morning by Draco bouncing onto his bed and shaking him. “Get up, Harry, there are presents!”

Harry groaned a little, as now he was awake he realised how cold it was, despite the fireplaces being lit. As he scrambled to get into his dressing gown and slippers, Draco went to wake up Vince and Greg. By the time Harry had warmed up a bit, Draco was sitting back on his own bed ripping open the first of a very large pile of presents. 

Harry watched him for a second, wondering just how one person could get so many things. His thoughts were interrupted by Hedwig flying into the room with a small envelope clutched in her beak.

“Happy Christmas, Hedwig,” Harry murmured as he took the envelope off her. It had a toothpick and a note from the Dursleys, telling him to ask if he could stay at Hogwarts over the summer holidays. Harry balled the lot up and threw it into the nearest fire before stroking Hedwig. “Not even some interesting Muggle stuff I could give to Tracey or Theo. But thanks for bringing it – I'll take you to the kitchens for some meat later, all right?”

With Hedwig perched happily on the headboard of his bed, Harry turned to the rest of his presents. Hagrid had sent him a huge tin of home-made treacle fudge. Harry poked it gingerly before putting it in front of the fire to soften, hoping it might be edible sometime that night. Hermione had given him a fancy-looking eagle feather quill. Pansy had sent him a cut out article from the _Daily Prophet_ about poisons that made him laugh. From Draco he received a large box filled with different art supplies: paints, charcoal, watercolour pencils and different types of paper. 

“Wow.” Harry put the box carefully back on his bed before launching himself onto Draco's, sending piles of presents flying onto the floor as he hugged the blonde. “Thanks Draco!”

Draco patted him on his side as best he could with both arms pinned to his sides. “Same to you, you psycho prat. I'm sure this book will come in very useful in reminding me that I'm not nearly as scary as I'd like to be,” Draco said, but his smile betrayed his pleasure. 

Harry grinned and went back to his bed. Draco had just opened an anthology of historical figures so evil they were known to both wizards and Muggles, like Vlad the Impaler and Rasputin. 

There was one more present on Harry's bed. Curious, he flipped open the card, which was filled with an elegant cursive.

_Dear Harry,_  
 _Please accept this small token of my affection._  
 _Merry Christmas,_  
 _Narcissa Malfoy_  
 _P.S. I enjoyed your visit over the summer, and I want you to know that your bedroom here will always be available for you when you want it._

Harry couldn't help the goofy smile that spread over his face as he read the note. He put it down to open the small parcel it was attached to. It turned out to be a beautiful silver cloak pin, fashioned into the shape of a loosely curled serpent with tiny emeralds for eyes. 

“Did you know your mum was sending me something?” Harry asked Draco.

“She may have mentioned it,” Draco replied distractedly. He was lifting up the discarded wrapping paper in search of undiscovered presents.

“Why didn't you say something? Now I feel bad about what I sent her.”

Draco finally looked up. “Why, what did you send her?”

“A drawing of the two of you saying goodbye at King's Cross.”

Draco snorted. “Trust me, she'll love that.”

Harry turned cloak pin over in his hands. “If you say so.”

“Aha! I knew she'd remember!” When Harry looked up at Draco's exclamation, he held up a box of green apples. “From the orchard at home. Mother always saves the last of them for me.”

“Only you'd get that excited over apples,” Harry laughed. “Have you opened everything yet?”

“I think so, yes.”

“Come to the kitchens and then go for a fly?” Harry asked. “I don't feel like being glared at all through breakfast.”

“Sounds good.”

********

  
In the end, all four boys went to the kitchens with Hedwig sitting on Harry's shoulder, and she came with them when they went flying. Harry suspected that after going to the Dursleys', she was eager for some friendly company, and he was just happy to see her again. When they played two a side Quidditch she even flew around them for a bit, clearly amused to be joined in the air by her normally earth bound owner. Eventually, she took off for the owlery when the Quaffle came a bit too close to hitting her.

After Harry and Draco easily beat Greg and Vince, they got changed out of their snow-covered clothes and went up to the Great Hall for the Christmas feast. The hall was decorated just as magnificently as it had been the year before, although there were far less students this year. The Slytherin table was nearly half full, but the other three tables had less than ten students each. Harry looked across at the Gryffindor table where Hermione appeared to be in awkward conversation with the Weasley girl.

“I think we need to go rescue Hermione again tonight,” he said to Draco, who nodded.

Gemma glanced over at the other table. “Maybe I could swap with her. I've never been at an all ginger table before.”

“What about your family?” Harry asked.

Gemma shook her head. “My dad's bald, so it doesn't count. Now, we have more important things to talk about.”

“Betting on who's getting drunk this year?” Harry asked with a grin.

“Exactly. Terence is no longer here to run the betting pool, so I'm doing it this year.”

As Gemma explained the rules to the people who hadn't been involved with this tradition before, Harry studied the staff table. Snape was waving his hands more than usual as he spoke to McGonagall and Flitwick, who were both laughing; Lockhart was talking to a bored looking Pomfrey who certainly seemed to be drinking a lot; and Hagrid was singing carols with Dumbledore. At the end of the table, two teachers Harry didn't know (one of whom was missing an arm) seemed to have collected all the jokes from the Christmas crackers and were reading them aloud through gales of laughter.

“Who's at the end there?” Harry asked Gemma.

“Let's see... Oh, Kettleburn – he's the one with one arm – and Burbage. You want one of them?”

In the end Harry took Burbage, while Draco went for Kettleburn. “You'd want to get drunk if you were missing an arm, wouldn't you.”

Greg and Vince both decided to go with Snape.

“You really think he's going to get drunk?” Draco asked sceptically.

They both nodded. “He's going to win,” Greg said.

“It's not really about the teachers winning anything,” Gemma said, but they didn't listen.

“Snape will win,” Vince said.

Gemma looked at him askance before looking back at the teachers. “It feels wrong not to be betting on McGonagall this year... She's so uptight, she's got to crack sometime.”

“I told you what Snape said about her and whiskey,” Harry warned.

“Yes, I remember. Ugh, I'll go with Pomfrey then, Lockhart could make anyone drink, poor thing,” Gemma said in disgust. Then she glared up and down the table. “But if anyone bets on McGonagall and wins, I will _end_ you.”

A few first years hastily decided to bet on other teachers, but most of the sixth and seventh years bet on McGonagall just to annoy Gemma. She was still grumbling about it at the end of the feast when Harry got up to go talk to Snape. He approached the staff table a little nervously.

“Excuse me, Professor?”

Snape, McGonagall and Flitwick all turned to look at him.

“How can we help you, Mr Potter?” Flitwick asked genially.

“I wanted to talk to Professor Snape, sir. About tomorrow?” Harry looked at Snape, hoping he hadn't changed his mind. 

“Yes, of course. Come to my classroom at eleven o'clock,” Snape said. 

McGonagall gave Snape a small frown. “Surely you haven't given the boy detention on Boxing Day, Severus?”

“I'm giving him extra lessons in Potions, Minerva. But yes, if he deserved it I'd have no qualms about assigning him detention tomorrow.”

Flitwick ignored his two colleagues and beamed at Harry. “It's so nice to see students interested in learning. You must have a flair for Potions for Professor Snape to spend extra time with you. It's not something he does often.”

“Er, well, it is my favourite subject, sir,” Harry said, slightly embarrassed.

“It's not often I have students who show enough potential in the subject to make it worth my time,” Snape said.

“Perhaps your standards are too high, Severus,” McGonagall said with a slight smile.

“Perhaps yours are too low,” Snape smirked back. “Mr Potter, I'll see you tomorrow. Don't be late.”

“Yes sir. Er, Happy Christmas,” Harry said awkwardly before he headed back to the Slytherin table. 

He found Draco sitting there, clearly bored as he watched Vince and Greg shovelling pudding into their mouths. “God, can we go? These two haven't said a word for ten minutes.”

“Sure. Want to go find Hermione?”

Draco shook his head as he stood up. “She came over and told me she's spending time with the Weasley girl. Apparently they've become friendly this past week.”

“That's good. It can't be fun for Hermione, stuck in that tower. Imagine sharing a room with Patil and Brown.”

Draco shuddered. “They're like Daphne. If Daphne was a moron, and no fun.”

Harry laughed. “So, nothing like Daphne, then. Wait, does this mean we can't sneak into the Gryffindor common room anymore?”

Draco considered this as they walked across the Entrance Hall. “Not that we _can't_ so much as we might not need to as often. Still, we should go up sometime this week to find out what their next password will be; no point losing that knowledge. But perhaps it's time we tried sneaking into one of the other Houses.”

Harry grinned. “A holiday project? I like it.”

********

  
When Harry entered the Potions classroom the next day he saw a large bottle of Skele-Gro sitting on Snape's desk and couldn't help a grimace of distaste.

Snape chuckled. “Fear not, Mr Potter, you'll be brewing this today, not drinking it.”

“Good,” Harry said with relief. “Er, I mean, not that the stuff I had to drink was that bad, sir. It did fix my arm.” He gave it a little shake.

Snape narrowed his eyes. “I did not brew the swill you had to drink last month. That was a commercial brand that somehow got left in the infirmary's stock despite its inferior quality. Can you tell me what was wrong with it?”

“It tasted horrible. It burnt going down, like hot chilli, only disgusting.”

Snape nodded and flicked his wand at the blackboard, causing the instructions for the potion to appear. “It will never be a pleasant potion to ingest, but it shouldn't burn. Can you pick out which step may have been bungled to cause such an effect?”

Harry read the instructions carefully. “It'd be the powdered dragon bone, wouldn't it? Too much of it, no, wait, it wasn't prepared properly?”

“Precisely. The dragon bone must be ground until it is the consistency of fine ash. Which is what you'll be doing now.”

“Yes sir.”

Snape watched Harry grind the bones in silence for a while before speaking. “Is there anything you wanted to ask about your mother?”

Harry thought of the list of questions he'd come up with. “What music did she like?”

“Music? Her favourite singers were Elton John and David Bowie.”

Harry looked up. “She didn't like wizarding music then?”

“She didn't mind the Hobgoblins, but the Muggles had a much more diverse range of musicians.”

“And she chose Elton John and David Bowie. Bet my aunt loved that.”

Snape smirked. “It may have been a contributing factor.”

Harry grinned. Another thing he had in common with his mum. “What was her worst subject?”

“History of Magic. She used to fall asleep in class, I believe, and dropped the subject as soon as she was able.”

“She did? Well, then you can't blame me for doing the same, it must be genetic,” Harry said with a grin.

“Nice try.”

“Worth a shot,” Harry said. “So, did she like flying?”

“Yes, though not to the same extent as you or – or your father,”Snape replied. “That's ground finely enough. Add it to the cauldron and stir thrice clock-wise before setting it to simmer.”

Harry did as he was told before starting to chop the starfish. “Did she like Quidditch?”

“Not in the slightest.”

“Oh. Was she in any other clubs or, er, extra-curricular things?”

“Things?” Snape arched an eyebrow. “She became a Prefect in her fifth year.”

“Prefect?” Harry looked up in surprise.

“Yes, she was rather better at adhering to rules than you are.”

“I've been good this year!”

“You are indirectly responsible for a teacher's office being set on fire.”

Harry scowled. “Yeah, well, he got away with de-boning my arm, sir.”

“And now you're even, is that it?”

Harry paused; that felt like a trick question. “I wouldn't say that,” he said carefully. 

“Waiting to see the outcome of your complaint?”

“No, that's not going to do anything. He didn't break any school rules, apparently.”

Snape frowned. “According to whom?”

“The Headmaster. Still, I was able to use my arm as an excuse to get out of being made to act out scenes from his books in class.” Harry chopped the last starfish a little harder than necessary at the memory of those classes.

“You are not even,” Snape said after a pause. 

“Sir? Are you saying –”

“I am saying nothing, Mr Potter, except that you need to add those starfish to the potion.”

“Right,” Harry said, hiding a grin as he scooped up the chopped starfish and checked the instructions again. The potion now needed to boil for twenty minutes before decanting, so he started to clean up his work bench.

“Do you still have that Cloak of yours?” Snape suddenly asked.

“Of course,” Harry said, startled. 

“Might I suggest that with the current threat to the school, and the suspicion hanging over your head, you limit its use to only when it is absolutely necessary?”

“Does saving Hermione from a tower full of Weasleys count as necessary?” 

“Are you saying you've used it to sneak into Gryffindor tower?”

“I never said that, sir,” Harry said.

The corner of Snape's mouth twitched. “I would advise you to simply weigh up the situation. Is socialising with Miss Granger worth running the risk of being Petrified?”

Harry shrugged. “You're forgetting that I'm the one letting the monster out. It's not going to hurt me.”

“Do not allow your resentment over the way some students are treating you drive you to act foolishly,” Snape said sharply.

“Sorry, sir,” Harry said quietly. 

Snape looked at him intently. “I understand that you are unaccustomed to adults looking out for your welfare, but you are a Slytherin. Try not to act like a Gryffindor.”

Harry thought some of the Gryffindors in his year and laughed. “I'll do my best.”

********

  
The next day Harry and a very disgruntled Draco walked back into the dorm after showering for the better part of an hour. Good thing Hogwarts never seemed to run out of hot water, Harry mused.

“I still can't believe we got covered with vinegar,” Draco grumbled.

Harry laughed. “You've got to admit that was pretty unexpected.”

“Unexpected?” Draco glared at him. “ _Our_ entrance isn't booby-trapped, but Hufflepuff's is? In what universe does that make sense? They're Hufflepuffs!”

“And apparently they take security a bit more seriously than Slytherin. Big deal.” Harry flopped onto his bed and sniffed his hands, pleased when he couldn't smell any trace of vinegar. He looked up when he heard a hoot, but it was Thoth and not Hedwig who flew into the room.

Draco snagged the letter off Thoth's leg and stroked him distractedly as he stared at Harry. “You don't think Snape set you up, do you? I mean, yesterday you as good as told him we've snuck into Gryffindor, and now when we try getting into Hufflepuff we get drenched in vinegar...”

Harry picked up Hagrid's tin of fudge from the fireplace. “Now who's being paranoid?” he asked as he popped some fudge into his mouth. “Just face it: Hufflepuff has defences that we don't. And from what Neville's told me, Gryffindor's the same as Slytherin. Besides, you won the bet yesterday with Kettleburn.”

“Next time we'll try Ravenclaw,” muttered Draco as he opened his letter. “And don't patronise me.”

Harry grinned and returned to prising fudge out of the tin, when the sound of Draco swearing made him look up. “What's wrong?”

Draco had gone pale. “This is from my father. He... He says that Hagrid opened the Chamber of Secrets fifty years ago.”

Harry stared at him for a few seconds before shaking his head. “I'm sorry, what? _Hagrid?_ ”

Draco nodded jerkily. “He says that a student was killed last time, that Hagrid was blamed for the attacks, and there were no further attacks after he was expelled. He's also told me not to be alone with him.”

Hagrid never did tell me why he was expelled... Harry banished the traitorous thought with a shake of his head. “No, he's wrong. Hagrid wouldn't do anything like that.”

Draco bit his lip. “He does like monsters...”

“Yeah, but he doesn't use them to hurt people! Besides, you were able to talk him out of hatching a dragon last year. Would he really have listened to you and given up the egg if he wanted to attack people with monsters?” Harry stood up. “We have to go talk to him.”

“What, and ask him if he's fallen back into his old habits of setting killer monsters loose in the school?”

“Yeah,” Harry said as he put on his cloak and scarf. “Come on.”

Draco grumbled as he got his own warm clothes out, but he pocketed the letter and followed Harry out of the room. As they walked through the common room Greg called out for them to join him and Vince in a game of Exploding Snap, but let them go when Draco said they were headed for the library. 

The grounds were covered in snow, and they chose to give a wide berth to a group having a snowball fight. As they curved their way around to Hagrid's cabin, they could see smoke rising from the chimney.

“Damn, he's home,” Draco muttered.

Harry shot him an exasperated look. “It won't be that bad. And it's better we just ask him than try to snoop around ourselves like we did last year with Quirrell.”

“I guess,” Draco said, clearly unconvinced.

As soon as Harry knocked on the door Fang started his usual wild barking, and Draco's expression relaxed slightly. Hagrid opened the door with one hand holding back Fang by his collar. “Hullo you two. Want a cuppa?”

“Yes, please,” Harry said fervently.

Hagrid released Fang after he shut the door and went to put the kettle on. “What brings you two here? Thought you'd've bin up in the castle stuffing yer faces with Christmas goodies.”

“That's what our dorm mates are doing. We actually needed to talk to you,” Harry said. 

Hagrid frowned slightly. “Yeh look serious.”

“Yeah...” Harry looked at Draco for help, but the blonde was busy avoiding his eye by patting Fang. “We wanted to ask you, er, well... It's about the Chamber of Secrets.”

“What about it?” Hagrid's voice had gone chilly.

“Er, well, Draco's dad sent him a letter saying that you got blamed for it last time,” Harry said, wincing a bit.

“Did he now,” Hagrid growled, frowning at Draco. “And I suppose now you've come to ask me if I'm up to me old tricks, is that it?”

Draco raised his head. “No, actually, we've to ask you what really happened, because neither Harry nor myself believed what my father wrote. But now most people think Harry's the heir of Slytherin, so we want to know as much as we can about the Chamber, and the monster.”

Hagrid looked at Draco for a moment before jerking his head in a short nod and picking up the kettle. They seated themselves at the table as Hagrid busied himself serving the tea. 

“It was in me third year, that the Chamber got opened and I was expelled for it,” Hagrid said quietly. “They snapped me wand and I had no where to go – me dad died the year before – but Dumbledore arranged for me to stay on and become gamekeeper. Great man, Dumbledore.”

“Why did they expel you?” Harry asked.

“I got caught with Aragog. They thought he killed that girl in the bathroom. I was just a lad so they expelled me instead of sending me to Azkaban.”

“Who's Aragog?” Harry asked in trepidation.

“Acromantula. Raised 'im from an egg,” Hagrid said proudly. 

“ _What?_ ” Draco cried. “Please, please tell me that he was destroyed when you got caught with him!”

Hagrid glared at Draco. “No, he wasn't! He lives in the Forbidden Forest with his family.”

Harry looked at Draco in alarm when he made a strange choking sound. “Am I missing something?”

“Draco's just over reacting, Harry,” Hagrid said, patting Draco on the arm.

“Over reacting? Harry, Hagrid has just informed us that there is a colony of giant, man-eating spiders living in the forest. I think I'm being rather calm given the situation,” Draco said. “What's to stop them picking off students?”

“Aragog wouldn't hurt no one,” Hagrid said.

Given Hagrid's history with dangerous creatures, Harry doubted that, but decided now wasn't the time to press the issue. “Alright. So, they thought it was your spider. Did they ever find out what it was? Or who was behind it all?”

Hagrid shook his head. “Aragog escaped into the forest, and the attacks stopped, so that was that. I was lucky I got off with just being expelled and not sent to Azkaban, so I didn't wanna make too much of a fuss. And Aragog was happier in the Forbidden Forest than the castle.”

“Because one should always try to make giant spiders happy,” Draco muttered. 

Harry frowned. “So, how do you know it wasn't Aragog? I mean, he could have lied to you.”

“Not about that. He was just happy to get out o' the castle, to tell the truth. 'Sides, he couldn't have. The way that girl died, he couldn't've done it. An Acromantula kills someone, well, there isn't much of a body left to be found.”

Harry grimaced. “So, if it wasn't Aragog, do you know what might have done it?”

Hagrid shook his head. “Nah. All I know is, whatever it was, Aragog was dead scared of it. He wouldn't tell me what it was.”

Harry frowned. In his opinion, the magical world was far too fond of not naming its villains, which made things all the more complicated. 

Draco was frowning too. “Doesn't this mean that you'll be blamed this time, too? I mean, most of the students think it's Harry, but if the staff know that you got expelled for the last time...”

“Dumbledore's already told me I've got 'is trust,” Hagrid said. Draco pursed his lips but said nothing as he turned his attention back to Fang. 

Harry sighed. “We should get back. Thanks for tea Hagrid. And, er, sorry if we upset you.”

Hagrid waved a massive hand. “Don't worry 'bout it. I need to remember that Draco isn't his dad.”

Harry could feel Draco fuming as they made their way back to the castle. “What's wrong? I thought that went well, considering.”

“Really? We still don't know what the monster is, or who the heir is, and apparently the only thing preventing Hagrid getting arrested is Dumbledore,” Draco said, his voice rising in irritation. “And I do not trust that man to look out for Hagrid's best interests.”

Harry looked at him sharply. “You think Dumbledore's going to screw over Hagrid?”

“I don't know,” Draco huffed. “But I have a really bad feeling about all of this. I think I'll write to my father and try to make him change his mind about Hagrid. I doubt it'll work, but it can't make anything worse, right?”


	11. In Which Harry Meets a Ghost and a Memory, and Discovers Draco's Secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obviously, the Valentine is from the books. I take no blame for that!

One evening in January, Harry and Draco were standing under the Invisibility Cloak outside the Ravenclaw entrance. After the debacle getting into the Hufflepuff basement, Draco had insisted they research Ravenclaw before attempting to get in. They'd followed Morag and Padma after dinner, and the two girls were currently standing before a door with no handle. There was a bronze knocker shaped like an eagle in the centre of the door.

Suddenly the knocker came to life. “I am the beginning of the end, and the end of time and space. I am essential to creation, and I surround every place. What am I?”

Padma and Morag murmured to each other before turning back to the knocker. “An 'e',” Padma said.

“Precisely,” replied the knocker. The door swung open and the girls disappeared inside. 

“That's it? We just need to answer a riddle? That's not very secure, they must have something unpleasant for anyone who gets it wrong,” Draco mused.

“Let's find out, then,” Harry replied.

Half an hour later they were walking back down to the dungeons. It'd taken a while, but eventually a first year had been unable to answer the riddle. All that happened was he had to wait for five minutes until someone came along who could answer it.

“This'll be too easy,” Harry said as he stowed his Cloak back into his pocket.

“But it was a different riddle each time,” Draco pointed out.

“So? If we can't figure it out, we'll try again later,” Harry shrugged, then stopped. There was shouting coming from around the corner.

They crept forward and peered around it carefully. It was the corridor where Mrs Norris had been found, and Filch was stomping off the other way, swearing loudly. They waited until he'd gone and moved forward. There was a large puddle of water spreading across the corridor, seeping out from a closed door.

“Wasn't this place flooded the night Mrs Norris was attacked?” Draco asked uneasily.

“Yeah...” Harry said. “Can you hear crying?”

Draco cocked his head. “I think it's coming from in there,” he said, pointing at the door the water was coming from. There was an out of order sign on it.

Harry pulled the door open and stepped inside, with Draco right behind him. They found themselves in a bathroom. A girls' bathroom, to judge from the lack of urinals. It was dark and gloomy; it looked like the walls had been drenched in water, extinguishing the candles. 

“We should go,” Draco whispered.

Harry shook his head and took another step. “Hello? Er, sorry to interrupt, but are you okay?”

The crying only got louder. 

“Can I get someone for you? Your Head of House, maybe?” Harry tried again. 

“Don't you want to throw something at me?” came a quavery voice.

Harry looked at Draco in alarm before replying. “Someone threw something at you? Are you hurt? We can help you to the hospital wing if you – oh,” he trailed off as a ghost emerged from one of the toilet stalls. She looked like she was only a little older than them, and dressed in an old Ravenclaw uniform. 

“Do you think you're funny, offering to take a ghost to the hospital?” she asked tearfully.

“How was he to know you were a ghost?” Draco asked scornfully.

“I didn't mean to upset you,” Harry said awkwardly. “Let's start over. I'm Harry, and this is Draco. What's your name?”

The ghost glared at them sullenly. “As if you don't know who I am. The only time anyone ever visits me is to make fun of me. Let's all throw books at Myrtle, because she can't feel it! What a fun new game!”

“Sounds pretty good to me,” Draco whispered.

Myrtle narrowed her eyes. “What was that?”

“He wondered who threw it at you,” Harry said hastily.

“I don't know, do I! I was sitting in the U-bend when a book landed in me. I didn't see who did it,” Myrtle sniffed. “It's over there now; the water washed it out.”

Harry walked to the sink she'd pointed to. Sure enough, there was a thin, battered book lying in the water on the floor. He bent down to pick it up and turned it over.

“It's a diary,” he said. 

“Fascinating,” Draco said. “Let's go.”

Harry shook some of the water off the diary and looked back at Myrtle. “Do you mind if I take it?”

“As long as you don't throw it at me,” she said.

“Thanks. And, er, why don't you get outside to cheer up? It's snowy and some people have been making snowmen,” Harry said. 

Myrtle twirled a pigtail around her finger as she thought about it. “Maybe.”

“Right, well, nice meeting you then,” Harry said. Back out in the corridor, he glanced at Draco. “Why would someone throw away a diary like that?”

“You mean apart from playing my new favourite game of Let's Throw Things at Myrtle?” Draco shrugged. “Maybe it's a new and inventive way of littering.”

“I'm serious.”

“So am I, that game sounds really fun.”

Harry rolled his eyes and slipped the diary into his pocket.

********

  
Harry found himself intrigued by the diary in a way he couldn't explain. He'd thoroughly inspected it, but apart from the date 1943 printed on the cover, and a smudged name inside – T. M. Riddle – there wasn't anything to discover. Yet something about the diary drew Harry to it. It felt familiar somehow, like a memory that he just couldn't bring into focus. Draco had dismissed it as deja vu, and Harry stopped mentioning it, but he didn't stop thinking about it. He also took to carrying the diary around in his school bag.

The mood in the school had begun to lighten slightly as the weather slowly warmed. There had been no further attacks – something for which Lockhart took full credit – and the Mandrakes were close to being ready to harvest. Apart from Peeves, whose song “Oh Potter, you rotter” now came with a dance routine, most people had lessened in their suspicions of Harry. Padma even helped him with his shearing technique one Herbology lesson.

On the fourteenth of February Harry and Draco came up for breakfast and stopped when they entered the Great Hall. Gone were the usual school decorations. Instead, an explosion of pink seemed to have taken place, from the flowers on the walls, to the heart-shaped confetti that was floating down to rest like pink snow over everyone. 

“What the ever-loving fuck is going on?” Draco asked as he sat down. Apart from Daphne, who was gigglier than was usual for the morning, the rest of their friends looked nauseated. Pansy pointed to the staff table with a jerk.

The entire staff was looking angry, even the normally cheerful Flitwick. All except Lockhart, that was. Dressed in pink robes that precisely matched the shade of the decorative flowers, he was getting to his feet. 

“Happy Valentine's Day!” Lockhart called, beaming around the hall. “Yes, I've decided that what this school needed was a little bit of light-hearted fun! And so, let me introduce my troop of frolicsome cupids!”

At a clap of his hands, a dozen grumpy dwarves trudged through the door from the Entrance Hall. Each was wearing a pair of golden wings and carrying a harp. Harry couldn't think of anyone who'd seemed less frolicsome.

“These romantic chaps will be roaming the school today, delivering any and all Valentines you wish to send! And may I take the opportunity to now thank the forty-six people who have already sent me one so far today! But that's not all! Why not ask Professor Flitwick to teach you an Entrancing Enchantment? Or ask Professor Snape to brew you a Love Potion!”

When their names were mentioned Flitwick hid his face in his hands and Snape exchanged a dark look with McGonagall.

Pansy looked sideways at Daphne. “You were one of the forty-six, weren't you,” she said flatly.

Daphne smiled and shrugged. “Nothing wrong with being friendly.”

“Yes there bloody well is,” Millicent growled as she got up.

The other girls and Blaise followed her out of the hall. Theo looked around himself before leaning over the table towards Harry and Draco. “You know that favour you both owe me? It's time to pay up.”

Draco looked at Harry with annoyed trepidation. “What do you want?”

Theo grinned. “I think it's time we got a little revenge, don't you?”

********

  
After their Charms lesson, during which no one asked about Entrancing Enchantments but three dwarves came in to deliver Valentines to Daphne and Blaise, the Slytherins were making their way to Herbology when another dwarf came marching up.

“Oi, you! Harry Potter!” he bellowed.

Harry blushed and looked around for an escape route. The corridor was too crowded though: apart from his own class, the Gryffindors were making their way to Charms, and there was a line of first years watching wide-eyed.

“I've got a musical Valentine for Harry Potter,” the dwarf declared.

“I'm good, thanks,” Harry said desperately.

“It's to be delivered in person,” the dwarf went on relentlessly.

Harry tried to back away, but Greg and Vince were blocking the way. As he tried to squirm through them, the dwarf grabbed hold of his bag and yanked. His bag split and all his school things fell to the floor, where his ink bottle smashed and drenched the lot.

“ _Reparo_ ,” Harry muttered quickly, and started stuffing his things back into his bag. Next thing he knew, the dwarf had pushed him over and was sitting on his legs.

“You're going to listen to the Valentine I have for you,” he said angrily before clearing his throat and singing in a gravelly voice:  
“ _His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad,_  
 _His hair is as dark as a blackboard._  
 _I wish he was mine, he's really divine,_  
 _The hero who conquered the Dark Lord.”_

His message delivered, the dwarf got off Harry and set off to find his next victim as the crowd laughed. Harry gave a weak chuckle as he gathered up the rest of his things and rejoined his housemates. He noticed vaguely there was something strange about the diary, but couldn't think what. Draco took a look at his face and glared over at the line of first years.

“Congratulations on the worst Valentine ever, but he's not interested,” he snarled at the Weasley girl. Her face flushed as red as her hair and she ran off into a classroom. 

Ron watched her leave and stormed over to Draco. “Don't talk to my sister that way, Malfoy!”

“Tell her not to inflict appalling poetry upon innocent bystanders then, Weasel,” Draco sneered.

“You don't even know it was her!”

“Please, between her and Creevey, it was hard to tell who's more in love with Harry. I wouldn't be surprised if she'd attacked Creevey to get rid of the competition.”

At that, Ron launched himself at Draco, sending both of them crashing to the floor. A few students shrieked, and Vince started chanting “Fight!”

Flitwick came racing out of his classroom. “Stop this at once!” he shouted, and let out a loud bang with his wand. When Draco and Ron broke apart and got to their feet, he glared up at them. “Ten points from both of you for fighting! All of you get to class right now!”

As they trudged down to Herbology, Harry glanced at Draco. “Not that I don't appreciate you standing up for me, but did you have to be so mean to her? You don't know she arranged that.”

Draco glared at him. “Yes, I do. Remember when I told you that you're hopeless when it comes to noticing when someone likes you? You haven't gotten any better.”

“Yeah, but still...”

“Fine! Live a life full of awful poetry and stalker midgets and see if I care!” Draco sped up and moved to the front of the group.

Harry gaped after him before looking at Blaise in confusion. “What did I say?”

Blaise looked at Draco for a few seconds before answering. “Nothing, Harry. Nothing at all,” he said in a tone that implied Harry was being extremely thick.

Draco spent all of Herbology ignoring Harry, despite the fact that they were working at the same workbench, and would only talk to Daphne or Tracey. As soon as the lunch bell rang, Harry took off for the castle, and was able to snag Hermione as she and Neville were making their way to the Great Hall.

“Feel like a picnic?” Harry asked a little breathlessly. They both looked out the doorway to the still slightly snowy grounds. “All right, an indoor picnic?”

After a quick trip to the kitchens they were soon settled in an empty classroom with their lunch.

“Eventful morning, wasn't it?” Hermione asked drily.

Harry rolled his eyes. “You have no idea. Draco's mad at me now, and I don't know why. Something to do with the Weasley girl, I think.”

Neville smiled sympathetically. “Her name's Ginny.”

“Right, okay, Ginny,” Harry nodded. “Draco's pissed at me because of her, or something. I don't know.”

Hermione darted a look at Neville and sighed. “He's jealous, Harry.”

“Of what?”

“I'm not entirely sure I'm the best person to be talking to about this,” Hermione said slowly. “I think you should talk to Draco.”

“Kinda hard when he's ignoring me.”

“All right,” Hermione sighed again. “Bear in mind that I haven't actually spoken to Draco about any of this, so I could be wrong.”

“Please, Hermione,” Harry begged. “Anything you think is better than what I've got: nothing.”

“Well, like I said, I think he's jealous. This isn't the first time he's acted like this, is it?”

Harry thought about all the times Draco had gotten mad recently. “No. He's been especially rude to Daphne lately.”

Hermione nodded. “Exactly.”

Both boys stared at her. “Exactly what?” Harry eventually asked.

“Isn't it obvious? He likes you!”

“Of course he likes me, I'm his best friend.”

“I mean romantically,” Hermione said.

For the second time that day Harry was left gaping at one of his best friends. “What?”

“Oh, for heaven's sake!” she snapped. “Neville, help me out here.”

Neville took a bite of a pastry as he thought about it. “She might have something there, Harry.”

“But... No, he can't.”

“Why not?” Hermione asked in the tone she took when she was helping him figure out something for class.

“Because it's Draco!” When he was met with two blank expressions, Harry went on. “He's used to getting what he wants. If he liked me, he would have said something.”

Hermione sighed again; the noise was starting to irritate Harry. “Exactly. He's not used to being told 'no'. If he wasn't sure about how you feel, I doubt he'd say anything.”

Harry frowned at his feet as he tried to process this. Trust Hermione to make something so unexpected seem perfectly rational.

“So, do you, Harry?” Neville asked. “Like him, I mean.”

“I... I don't know. I've never really thought about it,” Harry said uncertainly.

“Well, I suggest you start,” Hermione said briskly. “One way or another, the two of you need to sort this out, before it ruins your friendship.”

A cold ball of dread settled in Harry's stomach. “Right.”

Harry spent the rest of lunch trying to sort through what Hermione and Neville had told him. They chatted to each other as Harry silently followed them down to Potions, where he was so distracted he almost missed a step in his Hair-Raising Potion. 

“The woolly bear caterpillars need to be sliced, Mr Potter, unless you wish for the potion to become a powerful depilatory,” Snape said as he moved about the room. 

Harry jerked his hand back as if he'd been burnt. “Sorry, sir,” he said, blushing when he saw Theo staring at him. He picked up his knife, but it was no use. He was acutely aware of Draco's presence next to him, even though they hadn't spoken all lesson. For the first time, Harry left Potions class feeling certain he'd failed to brew something correctly.

Harry skipped dinner, choosing to ensconce himself on his bed with the curtains drawn and the last of Hagrid's fudge. He upended his schoolbag onto his bed and picked up the diary. As distracted as he'd been by Hermione's revelation, he hadn't realised what had been bugging him about the diary, but now it was obvious. Unlike the rest of his books, which had been covered in ink, the diary was ink free. Harry frowned. The diary had been with his other books; there was no way the ink could have missed it. 

He quickly grabbed a new bottle of ink, dipped a quill in it, and let some drops fall onto the first page of the diary. They gleamed on the paper for a moment, before sinking into the page, leaving it blank. Harry stared at the diary for a second then quickly re-inked his quill.

“Hello, my name is Harry Potter,” he wrote. Like before, the ink stayed on the page momentarily before disappearing entirely. Then more words appeared in a different hand.

“Hello, Harry Potter. My name is Tom Riddle. How did you find my diary?”

Harry read the words in surprise and replied quickly. “Someone threw it in a toilet.”

“How fortunate, then, that I preserved my memories in a more permanent fashion than mere ink.”

“Are they important?”

“Most certainly. This diary contains my memories of some horrible events that took place at Hogwarts. Events that were hushed up by the staff.”

A jolt of excitement went through Harry. “Are you talking about the Chamber of Secrets?”

“How did you know that?” Riddle's reply came quickly.

“I'm at Hogwarts now, and someone's opened the Chamber again.”

“When the Chamber was opened in my time, the culprit was expelled.”

Harry glared down at the words before scrawling an angry answer. “If you're talking about Hagrid, he was innocent. A lot of people think it's me, actually, because I'm a Parselmouth.” Harry held his breath as he waited for a reply. It didn't take long.

********

  
Harry awoke the next morning fully dressed on top of the covers. He frowned in confusion then shrugged. The day before had been emotionally exhausting, it was no wonder he'd fallen asleep as he... What had he been doing? He sat up and the diary fell off his leg onto his bed. Right, he'd been writing in the diary. He tried to remember how the written conversation had gone, but his memory was fuzzy. All he had was a vague recollection of writing to Riddle into the early hours of the morning.

Harry stood up quickly. A hot shower would make him feel more alert.

********

  
For once, Harry was pleased to get to History of Magic. He'd felt tired and vague all morning, and had no idea what they'd been doing in Transfiguration. Now he could have a relaxing nap as Binns droned on about goblin uprisings. He'd just laid his head down on his folded arms when a paper plane hit him in the face.

He opened his eyes and glared blearily at it before grudgingly opening it to see the note inside.

_I'm calling in my favour tonight. You and Draco better be in the dorm at 7 o'clock._

Harry had to read it a few times before it sunk in. He quickly wrote a reply.

_I didn't teach you how to make paper planes so that you could throw them at my face. I'll be there if you let me sleep now._

Harry folded his parchment into a plane, threw it back in Theo's general direction and returned to his nap.

********

  
After dinner Harry wandered back to the dorm and sat on his bed as he waited for Draco and Theo to arrive. He thought briefly about getting the diary out again, but something in him told him not to when he knew his friends would be joining him soon.

A few minutes later they walked in, joined by Pansy.

“What are you doing here?” Harry asked in surprise.

“As if I'd miss out on this!” Pansy said brightly.

Theo shut the door quietly. “I've figured out how we're doing this, and it's all thanks to you, Harry.”

“What'd I do?”

“In Potions yesterday Snape told you that not chopping your caterpillars would make the potion into a depilatory. So I put mine in whole,” Theo said smugly. He pulled a small vial out of a pocket and held it up.

“Does it work?” Pansy asked. 

Theo pushed up the hair hanging over his ear, revealing a small bald patch. “That was two drops.”

Pansy grinned. “Excellent. How are we going to get it to him?”

“He keeps a hair-smoothing tonic on his office desk. I saw it during detention,” Draco said quietly.

Theo grinned and looked from Draco to Harry. “Time to come good, gentlemen.”

“I'll do it,” Harry said immediately, avoiding Draco's eyes. 

“How?” Theo asked.

“Don't worry about it,” Harry said evasively. “Just give me the phial, and I'll take care of it. And then we're even.”

Theo hesitated, then nodded and handed it over.

********

  
Harry jerked awake when the bed curtain was yanked back and swore inwardly. He'd intended to wait until the others had gone to sleep before sneaking out to Lockhart's office, but he must have dozed off. He looked up to see Draco's pale face bending towards him.

“I know you're going to use the Cloak to get to Lockhart's. I'm coming too,” Draco said firmly.

“So you're talking to me again?”

Draco ran a hand through his hair. “Yes. I... I may have over-reacted earlier. I'm sorry.”

Harry smiled. “Thanks. Let's go.”

An hour later they were back, and Harry was struggling to get to sleep. 

For the first time Harry had found it awkward sharing the Cloak with Draco. They'd shared it enough that they walked together effortlessly. But tonight Harry had been very aware of Draco behind him: the warmth of his body against his back; the gentle puff of breath in his ear whenever Draco whispered to him; the occasional brush of an arm or leg against his own. He didn't know about Draco, but Harry had been tingly and jittery by the time they got to the Defence office, and it had had nothing to do with what they were about to do. 

Harry sighed and reached for the diary, wishing he'd never asked Hermione for help.


	12. In Which Hermione Sees a Most Unfortunate Reflection and Harry Enters the Chamber of Secrets

Harry blinked and looked around the shower stall, trying to remember how he'd gotten there. He felt tired, and the warm steam was doing nothing to wake him up. A glance at his wrinkled hands told him he'd been standing under the water for some time, so he got out and dried off. 

He'd been feeling off for a few days now. He'd only smiled weakly when Dumbledore had announced one breakfast that Lockhart would be indisposed for the rest of the week. He'd nearly fallen asleep during Defence, despite the fact that Snape had taken the class. Struggling to stay awake, he hadn't realised that Snape's lecture had systematically destroyed _Holidays with Hags_ and the claims Lockhart had made in it. It was only when an excited Theo had spoken to him after class that Harry had learned what he'd missed. 

Harry wandered back into his dorm and found everyone else still asleep. He frowned at them blearily before he remembered it was Sunday. “Because yesterday was Quidditch. And after the match we had a party. Didn't we?” Harry trailed off as he realised he couldn't even remember the outcome of the match. They'd played Ravenclaw, that much he was sure of. “What's wrong with me?” he muttered.

“Given that you're talking to yourself, I'd say insanity is a distinct possibility,” came Draco's sleepy drawl. A second later he opened his bed curtain, smirking at his own joke. He took one look at Harry and his face fell. 

“What?” Harry asked. 

“You look like shit,” Draco said flatly.

“I feel like shit,” Harry said. 

Draco started getting dressed quickly. “I'm taking you to Pomfrey. You must be coming down with something.”

Harry allowed Draco to drag him out of the dorm. He saw the remains of what had clearly been a successful party in the common room, and more than one older student was passed out on the couches amid empty bottles.

“Come _on!_ ” Draco said impatiently when Harry had slowed to a stop. He spent the rest of the trip allowing Draco to pull him along as he listed all the possible ailments Harry might have contracted.

“Madam Pomfrey!” Draco called out.

Pomfrey emerged from her office still in her dressing gown. “What is it, boys?”

Draco pushed Harry forward. “He's sick.”

Harry stared blankly at Pomfrey as she fussed around him asking questions and checking him over. Finally she handed him a large glass of Pepperup potion. “You're just coming down with the flu, dear. Nothing to worry about.”

Harry drained the glass and screwed his face up as steam billowed out of both ears. “How long will it last?”

Pomfrey clicked her tongue sympathetically. “At least a week. This will be a nasty one. I can give you as much Pepperup as you want, but the best thing is rest and a lot of water. Haven't you had the flu before?”

Harry shook his head. 

“The first one's always a bit of shock, but you'll be okay.”

********

  
Harry didn't know how he made it through the rest of the term. Despite Pomfrey's assurances, he remained in a hazy fog of exhaustion and disorientation. The Pepperup helped perk him up, and he took to drinking it before most classes so that he could remain awake. He didn't even bother with History of Magic or Defence, but just slept through them both. His friends tried to convince him to go back to Pomfrey to get checked out again, but he refused. Annoyed with their nagging, Harry took to retreating to his bed, where he'd spend hours napping, writing to Riddle, or drawing when he had the energy.

Finally, Easter holidays arrived. More than a week in which to catch up on homework and sleep!

Unfortunately for Harry, it was also the time that second years chose their elective subjects for the next year. Naturally, Hermione had spoken to every professor in the school, and was trying to figure out if she could take all the offered courses. 

“That's just ridiculous,” Pansy said. “You'll burn out in a month and end up like Harry here.”

Hermione shot a concerned look at Harry, but he was too tired to respond to the jibe. He just lay back on his bed as the conversation flowed over him. Draco had smuggled Hermione into their dorm under the Cloak, and along with Pansy, all four of them were crowded onto Harry's bed with pamphlets outlining the different subjects. 

“But they all sound so interesting!” Hermione said earnestly.

“Even Muggle Studies? You probably know more than the teacher,” Pansy said scornfully.

“But it would be fascinating to learn it from a magical perspective.”

“It would be incredibly boring for you. The only reason you could possibly have to take that class would be to get easy marks,” Draco said dismissively. Pansy nodded her agreement.

“Harry?” Hermione appealed.

“They're probably right,” Harry said, not taking his eyes off the dust mote that was floating above him. His reverie was broken some time later by Pansy hitting him with a pillow. “Ow.”

“Wuss. Have you chosen your subjects?” Pansy asked.

“Care of Magical Creatures and Divination.”

“Are you sure?” Hermione asked.

Harry shrugged. “I like animals. Muggle Studies would be boring, and the others sound hard.”

“Right...” Hermione said, sharing a look with Draco.

Pansy ignored them and smiled at Harry. “Excellent, you'll be with me and Daphne!”

Draco muttered something under his breath, causing Hermione to turn accusing eyes on Harry. He met her gaze placidly before looking back up at the ceiling.

********

  
On the morning of the Gryffindor – Hufflepuff Quidditch match a perky Hermione caught up with Harry and Draco as they were leaving breakfast.

“What's with you?” Draco asked.

“McGonagall called me into her office last night and convinced me not to take Divination next year. She said something about it being too difficult to organise for me to take so many classes, and then informed me that the entire subject wouldn't be intellectually stimulating for me,” she replied quickly. “Too much guess work and not enough logical thinking in her opinion.”

“Fair enough,” Draco replied. “Are you sitting with us today?”

“Of course. I'll just run up and get my scarf and meet you back here,” she said before trotting off. 

Draco started off for the dungeons before he realised Harry wasn't following him. “Potter! Come on, you prat!”

Harry jerked slightly. “Sorry.”

Back in the dungeons, Harry made straight for his bed while Draco rounded up the other boys. Something made Harry pick up Riddle's diary to say a quick hello before heading down to the Quidditch pitch. 

“Hurry up Potter!” Draco called impatiently.

Harry snapped the diary shut as the last of Riddle's reply sank into the paper. He emerged from his bed, grabbed his Slytherin scarf and met Draco's expectant gaze. 

“I'm going to go get some more Pepperup. I'll meet you there?” 

Draco sighed. “I'll wait for you in the Entrance Hall. Just be quick.”

Harry hummed an agreement as he set off for the first floor. 

The next thing Harry knew, he was standing outside of Myrtle's bathroom, unsure of how long he'd been there for. He shook his head and took off for the Entrance Hall. Pepperup could wait; Draco wouldn't. 

Sure enough, he found Draco and Hermione waiting for him. Draco was pacing impatiently as he and Hermione argued quietly. They stopped talking when they saw him step off the staircase. 

“You certainly took your time,” Draco grumbled.

“Sorry.”

“Whatever,” Draco sighed. “Let's get – what was that?”

“What was what?” Hermione asked.

“ _Want to feed... Let me kill... I want blood..._ ”

Harry stared at Draco. “You can hear it too?”

Draco nodded as Hermione looked between them with a gasp. “Did you both just hear that voice?”

“Yes,” said Draco uneasily.

“But that's – I mean, I think I know – Oh, I've got to go to the library!”

Both boys stared after her as she ran off.

“What just happened?” Harry asked as they set off for the Quidditch match.

“You know what Hermione's like with books. Don't ask questions, just get out of her way.”

The Slytherin stand was full by the time they arrived, but Pansy had saved them some seats. “Where's Hermione?” she asked.

“Library,” Draco said.

Pansy rolled her eyes. “I really need to do something about that. That's so Ravenclaw.”

“Good luck with that,” snorted Draco.

The teams emerged onto the pitch and Hooch walked out with the ball crate. She'd just beckoned the captains over to shake hands when McGonagall hurried onto the pitch with a giant megaphone. The noise of the crowd fell away as she raised it to her mouth. 

“The match has been cancelled. All students are to immediately return to their house common rooms, and remain there until their Heads of Houses arrive to address them all. As quickly as you can, please.”

Harry watched as Wood ran after McGonagall, clearly complaining about the cancelled match. Draco gave him a shove. “Come on, Harry.”

They followed the confused crowd back to the castle. They'd just reached the top of the stairs when Snape came stalking across the Entrance Hall. “Mr Potter, Mr Malfoy, come with me,” he said with an odd twist to his mouth.

They followed him silently up to the first floor, where he took them to the hospital wing. He stopped them outside the door. 

“I understand this may be somewhat distressing,” Snape said quietly. “There has been a further attack. I regret to inform you that Miss Granger has been Petrified.”

Harry stared at him dumbly as Draco gasped. “What?”

Snape's eyes darted between them. “Come and see.”

They followed him into the infirmary, where Pomfrey was bending over a Ravenclaw girl. Harry barely registered their presence as he and Draco rushed over to the next bed. Hermione was lying on it, unmoving, staring wide-eyed up at the ceiling. Draco put his hand on her arm as Harry stood next to him. He felt a painful jolt in his stomach as he stared down at her.

“They were discovered in the vicinity of the library,” Snape said. “This was found at their feet; have you any idea of its significance?”

He held up a small hand mirror. Harry stared at it before shaking his head.

“Very well then. I'll escort you back to the common room.”

As soon as they were out in the corridor, Draco said urgently, “Sir, it's because of us.”

Snape looked down at him with a small crease in his forehead. “Draco, you cannot blame yourself.”

Draco shook his head. “I'm not. Just before the match, the three of us were in the Entrance Hall. Harry heard that voice again, only this time, I did, too. Hermione said she thought she knew something, then said she had to go to the library. We didn't think anything of it, really, as that's normal for her.”

Snape stopped and frowned at them. “You both heard the voice this time?”

They nodded.

“And the mirror?”

“I don't know, sir,” Draco said. “She never mentioned it.”

Snape was silent for a minute. “I shall ask Madam Pince if she knows anything of Miss Granger's activities. By which I mean _I_ shall ask her. I do not want you two sneaking around like you did last year, do you understand?” When they nodded, he continued. “Good. Now, Mr Potter, I need to address the rest of the house. When I am through, I want your Cloak.”

“Yes sir,” Harry said.

“What? Why?” Draco asked.

“Because I do not want you using it to visit Miss Granger. I recall your attempting to visit Mr Potter in the infirmary last year, and under no circumstances are you to repeat that behaviour this time.”

Harry nodded as Draco glowered up at Snape. For his part, Snape simply resumed walking towards the dungeons. They found the common room packed with the entire house in attendance. Some people were on the couches, others standing or sitting on the floor. All of them were talking in tense groups. They quickly fell silent when they saw Snape enter. 

Snape's face was grim as he addressed his students. “There has been another attack. As such, new security measures are to be put in place for your safety. All students are to be in the common room by no later than six o'clock every evening, and you are not to leave under any circumstances until breakfast. If for any reason you require the assistance of a staff member during curfew, find a Prefect; they will know how to contact me. Students will be escorted to every class by a member of staff. All extra-curricular activities are cancelled until further notice, and you are not to go anywhere by yourself.” 

Snape paused and looked out over the room. “I trust you all understand the seriousness of the situation we are now in. Anyone found flouting the new rules will be harshly punished. Thus far, there have been no Slytherins attacked, and I would very much like to keep it that way. If any one of you has any information about the attacks, inform a member of staff. Finally, if any of you become upset or anxious, I reiterate that the Prefects will be able to contact me. Prefects, if you would see me for a moment.” 

As the Prefects made their way over, Snape looked down at Harry. “Mr Potter, I will see you in your dorm momentarily.”

Muted but urgent conversation broke out all over the room. Harry headed straight for his room and retrieved his Cloak. A few minutes later he handed it over to Snape when he entered the room. Snape cocked his head. 

“I had expected you to protest the temporary loss of your Cloak.”

Harry shrugged. “Doesn't matter.”

Snape sighed. “I understand how if feels to fear for a friend, Harry. But rest assured, Miss Granger will make a full recovery as soon as we are able to administer the Mandrake Restorative Draught.”

Harry nodded. He wanted nothing more than to collapse into bed. Snape frowned briefly at him, but swept out of the room without saying anything else. Not a minute later Draco burst through the door with the rest of the second years trailing after him. 

“What's this all about, Draco?” Theo demanded.

“Hermione,” Draco replied.

“What about her?” Millicent asked warily.

Draco swallowed. “She was attacked.”

Pansy gasped and Daphne burst into tears. Blaise put an arm around her as Tracey grabbed Theo's arm. 

“What are we going to do?” Millicent growled.

Draco looked around the room. “We're going to figure out who's doing this. And they're going to pay.”

********

  
The night of Hermione's attack was one of the longest of Harry's life. The second years had spent most of it in the boys' dorm planning ways of investigating a fifty-year-old crime. Draco had told the others what Hagrid had told him and Harry, and they'd decided that they'd take the first opportunity to write to their parents begging for any further information they could give them. Theo suggested they look through old school records in the library, and Pansy thought they might be able to find old copies of the _Daily Prophet_ there as well.

Breakfast the next day was a subdued affair as the entire school discussed the latest attacks. Up at the staff table the teachers were all clustered in twos and threes over copies of the _Daily Prophet_. With the exception of Lockhart, every one of them looked worried. And furious. 

“Anyone else get the feeling there's some bad news in today's paper?” Tracey asked. 

“Probably just an article on yesterday's attack,” Blaise said. 

Pansy leaned down the table. “Oi, Hawthorn! You done with that?”

She snatched the paper he thrust at her and scanned the front page quickly. “Oh fuck.”

“What?” Millicent asked.

Pansy ignored her as she passed the paper to Draco. “You better read this.”

Harry watched as Draco read the story. His face gradually went completely white, before angry pink spots appeared on his cheeks. “Son of a banshee,” he snarled.

“What is it?” Harry asked. 

“After I wrote back to my father,” Draco spat the word, “telling him Hagrid was innocent, it seems he was displeased. He's pressured the Minister for Magic into arresting Hagrid. He's taken him to Azkaban.”

“Hagrid's in Azkaban?” Harry whispered. 

“That's not all. He's also bullied the Hogwarts governors into suspending Dumbledore.”

Theo looked up from the paper. “It doesn't say anything about your father having anything to do with Hagrid. He's just been interviewed as a school governor.”

Draco let out a bitter laugh. “Trust me, it was him. He hates that I'm friends with Hagrid, and he's always said Dumbledore was the worst thing that ever happened to Hogwarts. He has the other governors in his pocket and he's very influential with Fudge.”

“Does this mean that McGonagall's headmistress now?” Tracey asked.

Theo nodded. “And Snape's deputy. It could be much worse, at least we've got two competent teachers in charge.”

They all followed his gaze to the staff table, where Lockhart – now with a full head of hair again – was blithely reading what looked like fan mail, and nodded. Things could have been much worse.

********

  
A few days before exams were due to start, McGonagall made an announcement at breakfast.

“I have good news,” she began, before the Great Hall erupted in shouts. 

“Dumbledore's coming back!” shouted a few people.

“You've fired Lockhart!” Theo called.

“Quidditch matches are back on!” shouted Wood.

McGonagall raised a hand. “Not quite. Professor Sprout has informed me that the Mandrakes are finally ready to be harvested. As I speak, she and Professor Snape are preparing them for the potion which will be used to cure those who have been Petrified. Not only will your friends be returned to full health tonight, but one of them may even be able to tell us the identity of their attacker.”

Classes that day were a complete write off, as all anyone could talk about was the prospect of finally finding out who had been attacking everyone. The betting in the Slytherin common room had reached fever pitch. Oddly enough, Harry and Draco were no longer favourites, as most people figured they wouldn't have attacked Hermione. Lockhart was now the front runner, given the inappropriately cheery mood he'd maintained throughout the entire ordeal. Harry became disgusted with the whole thing, and retreated to his bed, planning on telling Riddle about the impending revelation.

********

  
Harry woke up lying on cold stone. He opened his eyes to find he was still wearing his glasses. Riddle's diary lay on the floor in front of him. He slowly sat up and stopped immediately as his head swum. Standing up would definitely have to wait a while.

He was in a large stone cavern. There were pillars lining the room with stone snakes twining around them. Harry was lying at the base of one. When he craned his head, he saw that it was a gigantic statue. With a sinking feeling, he realised that this must be the Chamber of Secrets, and the statue must be of Salazar Slytherin. 

“Good, you're awake. I began to fear that I had drained you too quickly,” came a quiet voice. 

Harry looked around to find what appeared to a ghost of a teenage boy standing over him. 

“Who are you?”

The boy smiled. It didn't reach his eyes. “Surely you know me by now, Harry Potter.”

Harry peered closer. The boy was dressed in an old-fashioned Slytherin uniform, and had a Prefect's badge on. Pale and dark haired, he didn't look like anyone Harry knew. Nor did he look like a ghost, Harry slowly realised. Instead of being silvery and translucent, the boy simply looked like a living boy who had somehow faded. 

Harry shook his head and immediately winced. “I don't think we've met.”

The boy let out a cold laugh. “Not physically, no. But we have been corresponding for months now.”

“Riddle?” Harry gaped at him. 

“I told you that I had preserved my memory in a more lasting method than mere ink. What I didn't tell you was that I've also been slowly draining you of your life force.”

Harry's eyes widened. So that was why he'd been so out of it. He hadn't had the flu, he'd had Riddle leeching off him. 

“Of course, it wasn't just you. I had started the process with the Weasley chit. But then she stopped writing to me, and I worried that I had lost my chance. But then you wrote to me, Harry Potter.”

“Ginny had your diary?”

A look of distaste flashed across Riddle's face. “You cannot imagine how dull it was listening to her. So dramatic and over-wrought, and yet she had nothing of substance to say. Until, that is, she began to write of her infatuation with the famous Harry Potter. She certainly piqued my interest with that.”

Harry blinked. “Why would you care who she has a crush on?”

“Because, Harry Potter, I find your history to be incredibly interesting.”

“Okay...” Harry was trying to figure out what any of this meant, but his brain was refusing to cooperate. 

“Surely you know that you have one of the most intriguing histories of any wizard alive? You must be the only person to ever survive the Killing Curse,” Riddle raked his eyes over Harry, as if the answer would present itself on his person. “I confess myself to be interested in how you managed to defeat the most powerful wizard ever when you were a mere infant.”

“What's that got to do with you? Voldemort wasn't around in your time, was he?”

Riddle laughed again. “Of course he was around, you fool.”

Riddle held up a wand, which Harry recognised with a jolt as his own. Riddle wrote the words _Tom Marvolo Riddle_ in the air, then with a flick of his wrist, they rearranged themselves to read _I am Lord Voldemort_. A cold shiver swept over Harry as he stared at the glowing letters. 

“You became Voldemort?” Harry whispered. 

“I did. I couldn't continue to use the name of my filthy Muggle father, so I chose a name that I knew would strike terror into all who heard it.” Riddle smiled. To Harry's confusion, he looked more solid than he had earlier. “From what Weasley and yourself have told me, I succeeded in that. Do you know, she couldn't bear to even write the name at first? Not you, though. Why is that?”

“Maybe because I've met you, last year, and you're not that scary any more? You're not even properly alive.” Harry spoke with a bravado that he didn't feel. He was trapped here with Riddle, who had his wand, and he was beginning to find it difficult to remain sitting up. 

“All because of you,” Riddle hissed, and his eyes flashed red. “What did you do to me all those years ago?”

“I didn't do anything. It was my mum. My _Muggle-born_ mum. She died to protect me.”

Riddle twirled Harry's wand thoughtfully. “Blood magic. Of course. That gave you a powerful protection. Too bad it won't save you now.”

“You're going to kill me?” Harry tried, and failed, to keep a quaver from his voice.

“You don't remember? I had you write your own death notice on the wall before you came down here. The school should be in a state of panic by now,” Riddle smiled. “Through the diary, I've taken strength from both Weasley and you, allowing me to leave the pages at long last. I imagine you have less than half an hour before you lose consciousness. Within the hour, you'll be dead and I'll be fully corporeal.”

Harry stared at him in horror. He couldn't think of a single way out of this. His only hope was that someone would come after him, but he didn't even know how they'd find out where the Chamber was. He had to get his wand back somehow. He might not be able to save himself, but maybe he could stop Riddle from fully escaping the diary. 

“What was the monster?” he asked suddenly. 

Riddle smiled. “I'm glad you asked me that. A basilisk. You've no idea how much easier it was to set it on Mudbloods through you, a natural Parselmouth, than the girl.”

Harry looked around the Chamber, half expecting the basilisk to emerge from behind a pillar. He'd never heard of them before, but he gathered it was some kind of snake.

“It won't come,” Riddle said in amusement. “I have to call it, and I don't want it killing you when I need to feed off your energy.”

“How fortunate. _Expelliarmus!_ ” 

Harry's wand went flying out of Riddle's hand. Harry watched it soar over his head, where it was deftly caught by Snape.

“Professor!” Harry stared at his teacher in shock. Along with his own and Harry's wands, he was carrying a large mirror. 

“Who are you?” Riddle demanded.

Snape ignored him and knelt down next to Harry, handing him his wand. “Are you alright?”

Harry shook his head, but stopped when it made him dizzy. “I'm dying.”

“How?” Snape asked urgently.

“The diary. Riddle's draining my energy somehow.”

Snape's eyes darted towards the diary. “Destroy the diary, right,” he muttered.

“No you won't,” Riddle snarled. “ _Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts four._ ”

Harry and Snape looked up to see Slytherin's statue begin to open its mouth.

“Sir, you need to leave. The monster's a basilisk!”

“I know,” Snape said, hefting the mirror. “Can you walk?”

Harry shook his head. “Riddle's not going to waste me on the basilisk anyway.”

Snape looked at Harry intently. “Harry, you're not going to die. But I need you to close your eyes and keep them shut, no matter what happens. Its gaze will kill you.”

With that Snape took off for the nearest pillar as Harry shut his eyes. He heard a scraping sound far above him before a colossal weight hit the ground close to him. 

“ _Ignore the boy. Kill the man_ ,” Riddle hissed.

“ _Yes, Master_ ,” said the basilisk. 

“Sir, he's sending it after you!” Harry shouted.

“ _Silencio!_ ” Snape roared.

His spell must have hit Riddle, because Harry couldn't hear him anymore. There was a scuffling sound followed by footsteps, then the sound of something very large sliding across the stone floor. Snape swore just before there was a loud bang and a tumble of rocks.

Harry couldn't take it. He opened his eyes a crack.

There was movement at the far end of the Chamber. Squinting through the darkness, Harry could make out the tail of a very large, bright green snake. It whipped around a column as the basilisk chased after Snape, who was ducking behind a different pillar. He waved his wand behind himself without looking, causing more rocks to fall on the basilisk, but it just slid through them as it gained on Snape.

“ _No! Don't hurt him!_ ” Harry yelled in desperation. 

To his astonishment, the snake stopped. Both Harry and Riddle stared at it as it lay there, clearly awaiting further orders. Riddle opened his mouth but Snape's silencing charm was obviously still working. Riddle glared at Harry and raised his wandless hands as he advanced towards him. Harry scrambled backwards on his butt.

“ _Kill Riddle instead! He's the one who's been keeping you locked up down here!_ ” Harry shouted. When the basilisk hesitated, he added, “ _If you kill him, I'll set you free. For good_.”

The basilisk started towards them. Harry scooted back as quick as he could, making sure to keep his face turned away from the basilisk, but his strength was failing quicker now. He was only ten metres away when the basilisk slammed into Riddle – and went straight through him. 

“He's not corporeal enough!” Snape shouted as Riddle laughed silently.

“ _Bite the book next to him!_ ” Harry hissed quickly. 

He watched through barely open eyes as the basilisk looked down at the floor. Riddle stopped laughing and made an abortive lunge towards the diary, but it was too late. One of the basilisk's fangs pierced the diary as the giant snake's head slammed into the ground. Two of its fangs broke off with the force of it, one of them lodged in the diary. The book began emitting a high, unearthly scream as torrents of ink poured out of it. Riddle writhed in silent agony, clearly screaming as he jerked around, before he disappeared. 

“ _Close your eyes_ ,” Harry said quickly.

There was a moment of silence in the Chamber, as Harry stared at the basilisk and the remains of the diary. Then Snape started running towards him.

“Are you hurt?”

Harry considered this. “No. I... I feel stronger, actually.”

Snape nodded. “The diary has been destroyed, so you should now be regaining all that Riddle siphoned from you.”

Harry gave a breathless, relieved laugh. “Good. Er, what do we do about that? I kind of promised to free it if it killed Riddle.”

Snape looked at Harry in disbelief. “You promised a giant, murderous serpent its freedom?”

Harry nodded sheepishly. 

Snape closed his eyes briefly then shook his head. He levitated the mirror in front of the basilisk's face. “Tell it to open its eyes.”

“ _You can open your eyes now_ ,” Harry said, feeling oddly guilty.

They couldn't see its face because of the angle they were at, but the result was instantaneous. The basilisk jerked briefly as though having a seizure, before a ripple swept through it from head to tail, and it was still.

“Is it dead?” Harry asked.

“Yes,” answered Snape. “Can you stand?”

Harry tried to push himself up, but was still too weak to do so. Snape clasped his hand and pulled him to his feet, grabbing him by the shoulders as he swayed slightly. 

“I'm fine,” Harry said.

Snape gave him a doubtful look but let him go. When Harry didn't immediately topple over, he turned around and surveyed the dead basilisk. “ _Sectumsempra_ ,” he muttered. There was a disgusting squelching noise as the basilisk's eyes split open. 

“What did you do that for? It's already dead,” Harry said. 

“Dead or not, its gaze remains deadly,” Snape replied. He conjured up a leather bag and levitated the diary – still with the fang stuck in it – inside it, before shutting it and slinging the strap over his shoulder. “Let's get out of here.”


	13. In Which Fudge is Useful for Once, and Harry Befriends Some Weasleys

It was slow going at first, leaving the Chamber, but Harry's strength was quickly returning. By the time they walked out into a roughly hewn tunnel he felt almost back to normal, if a little tired. He gasped and stumbled as they turned a corner and saw a large shape lying across the tunnel.

Snape glanced down at him. “It's just a snakeskin.”

“Right,” Harry said weakly.

They came to a stop under the mouth of a wide pipe. Snape grabbed Harry's arm. “Hold on tight. _Mobilicorpus_.” 

Harry held on as tight as he could as they started to rise through the air. They moved quickly, but even so, it took a while before they got to the top of the pipe. They emerged into Myrtle's bathroom.

“ _Harry!_ ” 

Harry looked around them, but the only person he could see was Snape.

“ _Finite incantatem_ ,” Snape said, pointing his wand at the corner. 

A second later Draco appeared as he ripped off the Invisibility Cloak and launched himself at Harry, hugging him fiercely. “I thought you were dead,” came his muffled voice.

“Nearly,” Harry said, hugging him back. “What were you doing in here?”

“Now is not the time; I need to get you to McGonagall. Say 'close' in Parseltongue,” Snape ordered, as Draco shoved the Cloak into his pocket. When Harry did so, he spun around in time to see the hole they'd emerged from close up as it was replaced by a sink. 

“Oh, you survived,” came a glum voice. Harry looked up to see Myrtle staring at him mournfully. “I'd hoped you'd become a ghost and share my bathroom.”

Harry stared at her in horror. He couldn't think of a worse afterlife than that. 

“Stay away from him, or I'll have the whole school playing Let's Throw Things at Myrtle,” Draco said fiercely. 

Myrtle wailed and dove into a toilet, sending a geyser of water into the air. They quickly left the bathroom before they got wet, although Harry and Snape were already covered in muck from the Chamber. 

Harry paused in the corridor to look up at the wall. Under the original message about the Chamber was another, written in a different hand. 

HIS SKELETON WILL LIE IN THE CHAMBER FOREVER.

Harry swayed a little as he read the words and Draco grabbed his waist to steady him. “Holy shit,” Harry said quietly. 

Draco tightened his hold on Harry's waist. “I saw it on our way into the bathroom,” he said quietly.

Harry gave him a small smile. “I'm fine now, though.” When Draco still looked upset, he tried a joke. “My handwriting's never been neater.”

Draco gave a weak smile, and Snape snorted. “Perhaps I'll take to possessing you each time you've a Potions essay to write.”

They were silent for the rest of the walk to McGonagall's office. Draco wouldn't let go of Harry, and kept sneaking glances at him, as if afraid he'd suddenly die on his feet. Harry didn't say anything about it. He couldn't blame Draco; if their roles had been reversed, he'd probably be doing the same thing. As it was, he was happy to be fully conscious of his best friend again. Even with his new awkwardness around Draco, it was still better than seeing him through a tired delirium like he had the past few months. 

As they neared McGonagall's office they heard shouting. Snape frowned and opened the door. There was a small crowd of people standing in the office: McGonagall, Dumbledore, two men in red robes, and another in a pin-striped suit and a bright green bowler hat.

“That will never work! Do you want to make a laughingstock of the Ministry?” shouted the man in the suit.

“Muggles use sniffer dogs to great success,” said the taller of the red-robed men calmly.

“I'm sure we could use Hagrid's dog,” chimed in McGonagall.

“Preposterous!” the suited man spluttered.

“I believe this conversation is entirely theoretical at this point,” Snape interrupted.

Everyone spun around to stare at Harry, Draco and Snape as they stood in the entranceway. 

McGonagall was the first to break the silence. “Severus! You found him! How?”

“One moment, Minerva,” Snape replied. He guided Harry and Draco to the empty chairs in front of McGonagall's desk and gave Harry a glass of water off McGonagall's desk. “Drink it all, slowly,” he said, then turned back to the assembled adults. “It was actually Mr Malfoy here who figured it all out and came to me.”

Everyone stared at Draco, who went pink but sat up straight. 

“Is this true, Mr Malfoy?” Dumbledore asked.

Draco nodded and began to explain about how Harry had been hearing a mysterious voice no one else could, but eventually Draco had heard it too, causing Hermione to rush off to the library. “It was the monster. It was a basilisk. Harry's a Parselmouth, and he's been teaching me over the year.”

“A basilisk?” Dumbledore leaned forward.

“Yes, sir,” Draco replied. “When Harry was taken down into the Chamber, I sort of, well, I didn't handle it very well. Eventually I found a Prefect and had her Floo call Professor Snape, demanding he take me to visit Hermione in the infirmary. I wanted to see the best friend I still had left,” Draco paused and cleared his throat. “Anyway, I went to hold her hand, and noticed she had a scrap of paper in her hand. It was a page that had been torn out of a library book. It was about basilisks, and she'd written 'pipes' in the margin. That's how it's been getting around the school: in the plumbing.”

“Ingenious,” murmured McGonagall. The red-robed men nodded, but the man in the suit frowned. 

“Are you trying to say that a schoolgirl worked it all out?” he asked sceptically.

“I'm not _trying_ to say anything, Minister,” Draco snapped, and Harry realised that the man in the suit was the Minister for Magic, and wondered what he was doing here. Fudge turned red at Draco's answer, but Dumbledore held up a hand. 

“Let him continue, Cornelius. There will be time for questions when he's finished his tale,” Dumbledore said mildly.

Draco gave him a polite smile and continued. “Hagrid had told Harry and I that the last time the Chamber was opened, a girl died. And I thought that it might have been Myrtle, the ghost who haunts the bathroom on the first floor. So we went and asked her about her death. She told us she couldn't remember anything except for glowing yellow eyes, and Professor Snape said that sounded like a basilisk to him. She pointed us towards a sink, and it opened up when I spoke Parseltongue to it. And that's all I can tell you, I'm afraid,” Draco broke off, shooting a dirty look at Snape. 

“What does he mean, Severus?” McGonagall asked, frowning from Draco to Snape.

Snape cleared his throat. “Once Mr Malfoy had opened the entrance to the Chamber, I felt it was far too dangerous for him to accompany me down.”

“Naturally,” McGonagall nodded.

“So I tied him up and hid him in the bathroom before I entered the Chamber,” Snape said blandly.

There was a beat of silence. Then Fudge found his voice. “You imprisoned a student?”

“Yes,” Snape nodded. Harry smothered a laugh and looked at Draco, whose lips were twitching through his frown. 

“On what grounds?” Fudge continued.

“Because I knew that if I did not, he would most certainly follow me down into a Chamber where I had good cause to believe a basilisk lay in wait for us,” Snape said slowly, as if speaking to a small child. 

“Quite understandable, Cornelius,” Dumbledore said. “Severus, do continue.”

“Once Mr Malfoy was secured and hidden, I entered the Chamber. I found Mr Potter sitting on the ground, clearly weakened, as Tom Riddle stood over him.”

Fudge gasped, and the red-robed men gripped their wands more tightly. 

“Riddle was here? How?” McGonagall demanded.

Snape took his bag off his shoulder and levitated the diary onto McGonagall's desk. “By means of this diary. I am unsure how, but Riddle was draining Harry's life force and using it to become corporeal once more.”

Every eye in the room turned to Harry.

“Is this true, Harry?” Dumbledore asked.

Harry nodded. “Riddle was a memory, sir. He'd preserved himself in the diary somehow. During the year, Ginny Weasley then myself wrote in the diary. He used it to gain strength from us, and at the same time, possessed us. It's us who have been opening the Chamber. I'm the reason Hermione was hurt.”

Dumbledore looked at McGonagall. “Minerva, please fetch Miss Weasley and take her to the hospital wing to get checked out, then inform her parents. And then, if you would be so kind, alert the elves that we will be having a celebratory feast in, oh, an hour's time.”

McGonagall nodded and strode quickly from the room.

Dumbledore smiled at Harry. “Mr Potter, you are not responsible for what you did whilst possessed by Riddle. Now, what happened in the Chamber?”

Between the two of them, Harry and Snape related the events to their audience. When they finished, Draco was pale and gripping the arm of Harry's chair tightly, McGonagall and Dumbledore looked grave, and Fudge and his companions tense. 

“Mr Potter, you are lucky to be alive. Do you need to go to the hospital wing?” Dumbledore asked.

“No, sir. I feel fine now.”

Dumbledore nodded. “Very well then. Mr Malfoy, I hereby award you one hundred points for the bravery and loyalty you have shown tonight. You and Professor Snape will both receive a Special Award for Services to the School, and – ah.”

The door to the office slammed open, and Mr Malfoy strode in with a bandaged Dobby at his heels. He faltered slightly when he saw the Minister for Magic, but recovered to glare at Dumbledore. He took no notice of Draco. “So, Dumbledore, you're back, even though your suspension still stands.”

“Funnily enough, Lucius, after word got out that Harry Potter had been taken into the Chamber of Secrets, I received somewhat of a deluge of letters from the other school governors. It seems they felt I should be reinstated at once. Some of them mentioned that they'd never wanted me gone in the first place. Rather dramatic tales they told me, too, of blackmail and threats.”

Draco hissed angrily. Harry put his hand on his shoulder, but Draco shook it off. “ _I knew it! I fucking knew it_ ,” Draco whispered in Parseltongue.

“So have the attacks stopped, then?” Mr Malfoy asked. “Have you caught the culprit yet?”

“We have. Like last time, it was Voldemort,” Dumbledore said, ignoring the way Fudge jumped at the name. “Only this time, he was working by proxy, though this diary.”

As the men all looked at the diary, Harry looked at Dobby. The elf was staring at Harry intently, pointing at the diary, then Mr Malfoy, and then hitting himself in the head.

“ _What's up with Dobby?_ ” Harry asked quietly.

Draco looked at Dobby in confusion before he turned pink and shot to his feet. “What did you do, Father?” 

“Quiet, Draco,” Mr Malfoy snapped.

“No! You're involved in this somehow, aren't you?” Draco demanded. “You – Oh! You gave the diary to Weasley, didn't you? That day in Diagon Alley!”

“I said be quiet, Draco!”

Draco ignored his father. “Dobby, I command you to tell me what you know about this.”

Dobby turned his scared face to Draco. “Dobby heard Master talking – ”

“Silence, elf!” Lucius shouted, raising his cane over Dobby.

“Dobby, come here!” Draco shouted quickly.

With two cracks, Dobby Disapparated from in front of Mr Malfoy, to pop back next to Draco. Mr Malfoy's cane swished through empty air, and he glared at Draco. 

“Why did you do it? Because of you, both of my best friends nearly died!” Draco shouted.

“I've told you what I think of you associating with that Mudblood,” Mr Malfoy spat.

“Don't call her that!” Draco said through gritted teeth. “Is that why you did it? Because you don't want me being friends with Hermione?”

“Of course that's not why I –” Mr Malfoy cut himself off when he looked around to find both of the red-robed men had their wands aimed at his throat. 

Fudge drew himself up to his full but unimpressive height. “Lucius, you're coming to the Ministry for questioning. Aurors, if you would.”

The two red-robed men bound Mr Malfoy's hands together. The taller one took his cane, and they marched him from the room.

Dumbledore sighed. “Thank you, Cornelius. I'll walk to you the gates; I need to talk to you about releasing Hagrid. Severus, if you'd bring your students to the feast?”

Dumbledore ushered Fudge out of the office. Harry turned to Draco, who was completely white and staring after his father. “Are you okay?”

Draco blinked quickly. “Yes. Yes, I'm fine.” 

“Draco,” Snape began.

Draco shook his head and tore his gaze away from the door. “I'm fine,” he repeated, then crouched down. “Dobby, are you all right?”

Dobby was shaking, but he nodded quickly. “Dobby is unhurt, Master Draco.”

“Good. I'm sorry for putting you in danger,” Draco looked uncomfortable. “I want you to go to Mother and tell her everything you know about the diary, and what happened tonight. Can you do that?”

Dobby nodded quickly. “Dobby will tell Mistress everything, Master Draco.”

“Thank you. Tell her that I'm alright, and I'll see her when school ends,” Draco added.

“Yes, Master Draco,” Dobby said, then paused. “Dobby is happy that Master Draco and Harry Potter are safe,” he said before Disapparating again. Draco frowned after him.

“If the two of you are ready, I shall take you down to the feast,” Snape said finally.

“I'll just go back to the dorm if that's all right, sir,” Harry said quietly.

“What? Why?” Draco demanded. “Hermione should be revived soon. Don't you want to see her?”

Harry shook his head.

“Why not?”

“Because it's my fault she was Petrified in the first place!” Harry cried.

Draco looked at Snape in mute appeal.

Snape conjured up a third chair and sat down in it, pointing at the other two. Draco quickly sat back down, pulling Harry with him.

“You are not responsible for what Riddle made you do. The headmaster said as much, and neither the Minister nor the Aurors said anything about holding you responsible.”

“But I did it! I let the basilisk out. I should have fought back or something, but I just let him take over.”

Draco made as if to hug him, but stopped when Snape shook his head. “Harry, you are not the first person to be taken in by the Dark Lord. Older and more experienced wizards than you have willingly followed him.”

“What would you know about it?” Harry asked bitterly.

“Quite a bit, as a matter of fact,” Snape said quietly. He started to unbutton his left sleeve. Draco's eyebrows shot up, but Harry just looked on in confusion as Snape rolled back his sleeve. There was an ugly, faded tattoo on his left forearm of a skull with a snake coming out of the mouth. 

“Do you know what this is?” Snape asked. 

Harry shook his head, but Draco nodded. “The Dark Mark,” he whispered. “I've seen my father's.”

“I was a Death Eater, Harry,” Snape said. Harry looked at him blankly. “One of the Dark Lord's followers.”

“What?” Harry choked out. His favourite professor had followed the madman who murdered his parents?

“I'm not proud of it. I joined shortly after leaving school, when I was young, angry and alone. That does not excuse what I did. But I realised my mistake, and offered my services to the headmaster as a spy. I have spent the rest of my life trying to atone for my foolishness.”

Harry looked from Snape to Draco. “And your dad was one, too?”

Draco grimaced. “Yes. He claimed to have been coerced into it, but I've had my doubts for a while. What I learned tonight has pretty much made up my mind, though.”

Harry's mind was whirling. “What made you change your mind?” he asked Snape.

“I discovered that the Dark Lord was targeting your family. I couldn't stand by as he went after the one true friend I'd had, and so I went to Dumbledore that night to warn him,” Snape replied. 

Harry looked at Snape's face, but his expression was so carefully blank, he might as well have been looking at a statue. Harry grinned weakly. “Don't worry, sir, I believe you. That you've changed, I mean. I'm not about to run out of here screaming.”

Some of the tension left Snape, and he gave a small smile. “I'm pleased to hear it. One final matter, Mr Potter.”

“What?” Harry asked.

“Next time you find an object that, like the diary, appears to have unusual magic, bring it to me so that I may determine its safety. I promise I'll return it to you if it's safe.”

“I will, sir.”

“Good. Now, I do believe we have a feast to attend.”

********

  
Out of all the Hogwarts feasts Harry would attend in his life, this one would always stand out for him. It was the middle of the night, for one thing, and apart from Draco and himself, everyone was in their pyjamas. He'd caused a minor riot when he walked in with Draco and Snape. The Great Hall had gone completely silent before there was an explosion of noise, and Harry found himself surrounded by his friends rushing to hug him. Snape quickly side stepped the mass of second years and made his way to the staff table as a sobbing Daphne latched onto Harry.

“You're alive!” she squealed. 

“I won't be for long if you don't let go,” Harry said breathlessly.

“Oh, right, sorry,” she pulled back and beamed at him, before hugging Draco. “And you! Where have you been? We were so worried about you!”

“You were?” Draco asked as he hugged her back awkwardly.

“Of course, you idiot,” she replied.

“Draco, you were hysterical over Harry disappearing, made Gemma summon Snape and then left with him and didn't return,” Pansy explained. “We all thought you'd been attacked, too, but the Prefects wouldn't let us leave the common room. Not until McGonagall came down to tell us about the feast.”

“Sorry. But I can make it up to you,” Draco offered.

“How?”

“Because,” smirked Draco, “Harry and I are the only students who know the full story of what went on tonight. How would you like to be our official spokeswoman? You'll get to tell everyone.”

Pansy's eyes lit up. “Start talking.”

Draco began the tale again, though Harry noticed with amusement that this rendition contained a lot more swear words than the version he'd told in McGonagall's office. Harry half listened as he loaded up his plate; he was absolutely starving now that the shock was wearing off. 

“I'm glad you're back, Harry,” came a quiet voice behind him. 

Harry twisted around to see Neville standing behind him. “Me too. Sit down,” Harry said, shooing Daphne, Greg and Vince down a seat.

Neville climbed awkwardly onto the bench. “Ginny's been telling me a really weird story. Something about You-Know-Who's diary?”

Pansy grinned as she leant forward to fill Neville in on what he'd missed. She'd just reached the part about Hermione figuring out that the monster was a basilisk, when Hermione herself came running up towards them. 

“You were possessed?” she cried as she hugged Harry.

“Yeah. I set the basilisk loose on you. I'm really sorry, Hermione,” he said miserably.

Hermione waved him away and hugged Draco. “Don't worry about it. What happened in the Chamber?”

“I'm getting to that,” Pansy cut in. 

Hermione squeezed in between Harry and Neville as Pansy resumed the tale. Harry grinned down at the table. He hadn't realised this at the time, but he'd missed this when he was possessed: just sitting with his friends. He felt like he hadn't seen them in months.

“Where's Lockhart?” Draco suddenly asked. Harry followed his gaze. Sure enough, there was an empty space up at the staff table. 

“That coward handed in his resignation the second he found out that Harry had been taken into the Chamber,” Millicent said in disgust.

“He what?” Draco asked loudly.

Theo nodded. “He's been packing ever since by the looks of things. Filch has been carrying his things down to the Entrance Hall all night.”

Draco sat still for a second. “I think I'm going to be sick,” he announced, and hurried out of the hall.

They all looked after him. “That was dramatic,” Tracey commented.

“That was Draco,” Pansy said dismissively. “Stop interrupting my story!”

They obediently let her continue filling in Hermione and Neville. Blaise was telling Harry all about the latest girl he'd been seeing, when he heard someone clearing their throat behind him. He looked up to see Justin Finch-Fletchley standing there. 

“I'd just like to apologise for suspecting you,” he said and held out a hand.

Harry shook it slowly. “I did try to explain things to your friends.”

Justin nodded. “I know, Susan told me. Still, everything worked out in the end, didn't it?”

He walked back to the Hufflepuff table as Draco reappeared.

“False alarm,” he said to their concerned looks. He shoved something into Harry's pocket under the table. Harry stuck his hand into his pocket and felt the slippery folds of his Cloak. He shot a questioning look at Draco and got an innocent smile in return.

The feast went on into the small hours of the morning. It was three o'clock when Dumbledore stood up to announce that Slytherin had won the House Cup again. The cheering of the Slytherins was nothing compared to the cheers that followed the news that Lockhart had quit, or McGonagall's announcement that exams had been cancelled as a school treat. 

“Oh, no!” Hermione wailed.

“When did you even have time to study? You've been Petrified!” Blaise scoffed.

“Some of us like to study throughout the year, thank you very much,” she replied. 

Tracey nodded. “And what about people who are doing their O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s this year?”

Blaise shrugged. “That's their problem.”

At four o'clock Hagrid walked into the hall. “Good to see yer all right,” he said, smiling down at them. 

“Are you?” Hermione asked. She'd been horrified when she found out he'd been sent to Azkaban. 

Hagrid shuddered. “No' yet, but I'll be right after some chocolate. Maybe a drink. I better go see Dumbledore.”

It was only when the bewitched ceiling was showing the grey light of dawn that Dumbledore called an end to the feast. As the sleepy but cheerful crowds made their way to the dormitories, Harry tugged on Draco's sleeve.

“What did you use my Cloak for?”

“Oh, that,” Draco grinned. “I tracked down Peeves and convinced him to come good on the favour he owed me.”

“And?”

“And all of Lockhart's possessions should be sinking beneath the surface of the Black Lake as we speak,” Draco said smugly.

********

  
Harry greatly enjoyed the rest of the school term. The weather was sunny and warming quickly, and with no exams looming, classes were a lot more relaxed than they otherwise would have been. Defence Against the Dark Arts had been cancelled altogether after Lockhart's ignominious resignation, and Harry and Draco spent those periods visiting with Hagrid. He refused to talk about his time in Azkaban, but was otherwise back to his usual self.

Herbology lessons with the Ravenclaws had gone back to normal. Harry and Draco were once again sharing a table with Padma and Morag. Not only had they apologised for thinking that Harry and Draco had been responsible for the attacks, but Daphne wanted to share a table with Stephen Cornfoot. The four of them spent their lessons watching Daphne and Stephen flirt with each other as Tracey and Anthony Goldstein tried in vain to get them to pay attention to their work station. 

One morning during the last week of term, Draco received a letter from his mother that, for once, wasn't accompanied by a large box of sweets. He read it, pocketed it and stood up abruptly.

“Come for a walk?” he asked Harry.

They only had History of Magic that morning. Knowing that Binns wouldn't notice their absence, Harry picked up another slice of toast and joined Draco.

Draco led him out into the deserted grounds and made for their usual spot near the lake. Harry leaned against the sun-warmed rock and waited for Draco to speak.

“My father's been fired as a school governor, and he's going on trial next week,” he said abruptly.

Harry looked at him. “What for?”

“Possession of a cursed object, knowingly giving a cursed object to a minor, and attempted murder,” Draco said quietly.

Harry raised his eyebrows. “And the trial's so soon?”

“Mother say the Ministry wants to get it over with as quickly as possible to avoid the bad publicity,” Draco said. “It's because of you, of course.”

“Me?”

Draco sighed. “Potter, you're the Boy-Who-Lived. Why do you think Fudge and those Aurors came to the school? Because it would've been a disaster for the Ministry if you'd actually died.”

“I just assumed that was normal if a student was in danger. Aren't Aurors like the police?”

“Like what?” Draco shook his head. “Whatever. I don't think they'd normally come here. I mean, they didn't after any of the other attacks. I think Dumbledore sort of runs this place however he wants to, I don't think the Ministry has much to do with it.”

“I've noticed,” Harry said. “But that means we don't have exams this year, so I'm not complaining.”

********

  
The last day of school was bright and warm, promising a long summer to come. Harry joined his friends in their crowded compartment in a good mood. Sure, he had more than two months of the Dursleys to look forward to, but this summer was going to be different. No getting locked up and starved this year: Mrs Malfoy's threats would see to that.

Hermione was busy telling Draco and Neville about her family's holiday to France. Harry was only half paying attention to her, as he was watching the busy corridor outside their compartment. He'd watched Daphne pounce on Stephen and drag him off somewhere, and Theo and Blaise had just walked out of Flint's compartment clutching a large bag of gold. They'd won the betting pool and were laughing as they discussed their plans for the money. Harry gave them an amused smile before he caught sight of a flash of red.

“Back in a sec,” he muttered, slipping out of the compartment. “Ginny!”

Ginny turned around, looking a little startled. “Yes?”

“Hi. Can I talk to you please?” Harry asked.

“Okay,” she said uncertainly.

Harry led her back to the compartment. Ginny paused when she saw the look Draco was giving her, but then Neville waved and she smiled back.

Harry shot Draco a look as he sat down. “ _Be nice to her_ ,” he hissed. Draco rolled his eyes but remained silent. 

Harry looked up at Ginny. “You can sit down. I just wanted to know how you were doing. You know, after the whole possession thing.”

Ginny sat down between him and Neville. “Not bad, considering. Mostly embarrassed. Dad was pretty annoyed that I'd kept the diary in the first place. But I tried to get rid of it a few months ago, so I've been back to normal for a while now. I feel pretty guilty about everything, though.”

“Yeah, me too,” Harry agreed.

“I've tried telling both of you that you've nothing to feel guilty about,” Hermione began.

“ _Well, there's always that Valentine of hers_ ,” Draco muttered.

“ _Drop it_ ,” Harry replied angrily.

“ _Why? Worried I might upset your girlfriend's feelings?_ ”

“ _She's not my girlfriend, you git. If you'd stop being a jealous wanker for one second you might realise that she's not the one I like_.”

Draco stared at him. “ _Who do you like, then?_ ”

“ _That's not – I don't – Nothing_ ,” Harry stammered.

“Could you two _please_ speak English?” Hermione snapped.

“An excellent suggestion, Hermione.”

Harry looked up to see the Weasley twins standing in the doorway. They were looking at Harry and Draco suspiciously.

“Everything all right, Ginny?” one of them asked.

“It's fine,” Ginny said firmly. “They were perfectly nice to me. When they were speaking English, that is.”

“Sorry,” Harry winced, realising how rude they'd been. 

Ginny shrugged. “It's okay. It's good to talk to someone else who knows what it was like. These two have been treating me like I'm made of glass.”

“Yeah, Draco's been the same with me,” Harry laughed. He and Ginny grinned at each other as Draco and the twins looked at each other. 

“Nothing wrong with looking out for our kid sister,” one twin said as he sat down.

“Absolutely not, George. Carry on,” said Fred.

Harry turned to Ginny. “Want to play Exploding Snap?”

“Okay,” Ginny said with a smile.

As they played, conversation quickly turned to Quidditch. “Flint's graduating this year, so we'll need another Chaser. And captain,” Harry mused.

“And another Beater,” Draco called from the corner. “Gemma's quitting to focus on her N.E.W.T.s.”

“Damn,” Harry feelingly. 

Fred snorted. “That's nothing.”

“We need to find another Seeker,” George explained.

“What happened to this one? Towler, right?” Harry asked.

“He quit,” said George.

“He didn't want to play in the first place –” said Fred.

“– but there was no one else,” George finished.

Harry laughed. “He didn't look like he wanted to play. What about you?”

Ginny blushed. “Me?”

“Her?” Fred said.

“Ginny's never played Quidditch, have you?” George asked.

“I've been breaking into the broom shed and borrowing your brooms for years,” she said quietly. 

The twins looked at her, gobsmacked, but Harry grinned. “Try out next year, then,” he suggested.

“I'll think about it,” Ginny replied.

All too soon the train pulled into King's Cross. The Weasleys said goodbye and ran off to their parents, and Neville walked over to his grandmother. 

Draco pulled Hermione along the platform. “It's time you met my mother.”

They found Mrs Malfoy waiting impatiently with Dobby standing beside her. “Draco! Oh, darling, I've been so worried about you,” Mrs Malfoy cried as she enveloped him in a tight hug.

“I'm fine, Mother,” he said when she released him.

She scanned his face before giving a small nod and hugging Harry. “And Harry, I'm so glad you're all right. I'm sorry my husband's actions endangered you like that.”

“Thank you, Mrs Malfoy,” he said.

She pulled back and gave him a stern look. “Please, call me Narcissa.”

“I, er, yes, Narcissa,” Harry said, pleased.

Draco beamed. “Mother, I'd like you to meet Hermione.”

“Pleased to meet you, Mrs Malfoy,” Hermione held out her hand.

Narcissa shook it and smiled. “As am I. I've heard so much about you.”

“Mother? Why is Dobby wearing – Are they my old clothes?” Draco interrupted.

“Dobby is a free elf, sir!” Dobby squeaked happily.

“A free elf?” Draco repeated. 

Narcissa smiled down at Dobby. “Yes, Draco. After you sent Dobby home to inform me of your father's actions, I presented him with clothes. It doesn't quite make up for the way your father treated him, but it was what he asked for.”

“But why is he wearing my old suit?” Draco persisted. 

“Because I have taken him into my paid employ, and expect him to dress appropriately,” Narcissa said.

“You're paying a house elf?” Draco asked incredulously.

“Miss Narcissa is giving Dobby two Galleons a week, sir!” Dobby said.

When Draco just stared at his mother, she sighed. “I'll explain it all when we get home.”

“Right,” Draco said slowly.

Hermione shifted. “I better go, I don't want to keep my parents waiting. Have a good holiday. I'll write, but it might take a while from France.” She hugged Harry and Draco and walked off. 

“So, when can Harry come to stay with us?” Draco asked. 

“I'm sorry, but that won't be possible this summer,” Narcissa said apologetically. “In light of your father's trial, I've decided that we need to spend some time together as a family.”

Harry tried not to let it show as he felt his heart sink. He'd been looking forward to going back to Malfoy Manor for part of the holidays.

“But Mother...”

“Draco, I'll explain it all when we get home,” Narcissa repeated. “Harry, I am sorry. But I need to spend some time with Draco.”

Harry forced a smile. “I understand.”

Narcissa nodded, ignoring Draco's glower. “Your relatives are over there, I'll walk you over.”

She led the way to the Dursleys with Dobby bobbing along beside her. 

“I'll write to you,” Draco muttered as they dragged their trunks behind her. “And I'll try to get her to change her mind.”

“Draco, it's fine. I'll be fine,” Harry assured him. 

“Good afternoon Mr and Mrs Dursley,” Narcissa said coldly.

“Come to threaten us again, have you?” Uncle Vernon blustered.

“Nothing of the sort,” Narcissa replied. “I don't have long. My husband's going on trial for attempted murder, you see, and I have much to do.”

Harry grinned at Draco as the Dursleys recoiled. Dudley was staring at Dobby with a terrified fascination. 

Narcissa continued, “I merely wished to inform you that it might be prudent for you to not bother Harry over the summer. He nearly killed some other students this year, you see. I'm sure you understand that he might need some time alone to recover from that.”

The Dursleys looked at Harry in horror. 

“I wasn't feeling myself,” he said, playing along.

Narcissa nodded. “It's all been sorted, but I'll make sure that Draco writes to him regularly. Just to keep an eye on things. But he should be fine.”

The Dursleys all nodded nervously.

Harry rested Hedwig's cage on his trunk as he hugged Draco goodbye. “Thank you,” he whispered to Narcissa over Draco's shoulder. She gave him a small smile in return. 

“Let me know what happens with your dad's trial?” Harry asked Draco.

“Of course. See you in September,” Draco said.

Harry glanced at his relatives and grinned. “Yeah, you will. I have a feeling I'll be having a relaxing summer for once.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed second year! Thank you to everyone who took the time to read, especially to those who commented, or left kudos. Your feedback always makes me smile.


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